


For What It's Worth

by Centenniel



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, Drug Use, F/M, Gen, House Party, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Rare Pairings, Shotgunning, Slow Burn, Smoking, Underage Drinking, strangers to acquaintances to friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Centenniel/pseuds/Centenniel
Summary: It's not that Seungkwan doesn't like Wonwoo. He hardly knows the guy. But he wants to.This is all Mingyu's fault, he decides.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Jeon Wonwoo
Comments: 16
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think Wonwoo and Seungkwan are quite sweet together. I'm not exactly sure where this is going. I'll update tags as I figure it out.

“Have you heard?” Chan says in lieu of a greeting when Seungkwan joins him and Vernon for lunch at the cafeteria. 

“What’s that?” Seungkwan asks, picking up his fork. 

“Vernon is a rent boy.”

Seungkwan pulls a piece of penne from the sticky pile on his plate and raises an eyebrow at his friends sitting across the table. “Is he now?”

Vernon nods, one side of his mustard-stained lips pulling into a grin. “Yeah and apparently not a very expensive one.”

“Which is such bullshit,” Chan adds. With feeling. “If he really was a prostitute, he’d be like a high end escort or something.”

“Thanks, Chan.”

“You’re welcome, buddy.”

Seungkwan admires (probably not the exact word but close enough) the way Vernon lets these rumors roll off his back. Perhaps it’s just a convincing defense mechanism. Or maybe he truly doesn’t give a shit what people think. 

“Where’d you hear this?”

Chan rolls his eyes. “A girl in my chemistry lab. She heard from a friend who heard from someone who heard from someone else. By the way, Vernon, my lab partner has seen you around and she thinks you’re cuuuute.”

Vernon just hums, short and flat, which annoys Seungkwan to no small degree. What’s the point of having a face like that if he’s not going to capitalize on it? “When are you guys leaving for the ski trip?” he asks, steering the conversation away from his admirers. 

“Saturday after final exams. Wonwoo is going to pick us up in the morning at the dorm. Oh.” Chan shifts his gaze forward to face Seungkwan. “I got us seats in Wonwoo’s car.”

Seungkwan is confused by the apologetic tone of his statement. “Thanks Chan.”

“If you want, you could probably switch with Seokmin. He’s supposed to ride up with Yuju and her housemates.”

Seungkwan’s confusion deepens. “It’s fine.”

“Okay. Are you sure?”

“Yes! Why are you being so weird?” 

“It’s just,” Chan shrugs, “you know. It’s a four hour drive to the lodge.”

His swirling confusion takes on an edge of irritation. He folds his hands and places them on the table. “I am aware of how long the drive will take.” He attempts to remain calm. “What exactly are you trying to fucking say?”

Vernon interjects, “I think he just wants to make sure you won’t be uncomfortable because it’s a long time to be confined in a small space with Wonwoo.”

 _Oooooh shiiiiit,_ Seungkwan thinks in slow motion as he tries to tamp down his rising panic. _They know? How could they possibly know? I’ve been so, so careful and I only realized it myself -_

“We know you’re not a fan of Wonwoo,” says Chan.

_-wait. What._

“That’s not true!” Seungkwan is both relieved and annoyed. “I mean, I’m not _not_ a fan. Wonwoo is...nice.”

“Weeeell, I wouldn’t say that.” Chan looks thoughtful. “He can be nice. He can also be a dick. But mostly nice,” he adds hastily as if remembering they would be taking a long drive together in a few days.

“He’s nice,” Vernon confirms. “But we figured you didn’t like him much because you’re always quiet around him. Usually, you’re so, you know...”

“Vivacious? Ebullient?” 

“Loud,” says Chan.

They’re not wrong about either points. Seungkwan has always been outgoing and affectionate towards his friends but Wonwoo isn’t exactly that. 

But they’re getting there. 

He can’t help but be hopeful. 

****

Jeonghan shoos Seungcheol out of the house a few hours before their first party on the fourth weekend of the term so they can clean. “You’ll just get in the way,” he says. “Take Seungkwan and Vernon for a spin around town and grab the keg on your way back.”

So Seungcheol loads Vernon and Seungkwan into his Honda Civic and shows them all the important landmarks of their University’s suburban enclave.

“Over there is the park where Josh and I got high for the first time our freshman year.”

“That convenience store doesn’t ask for an ID 80% of the time but they will automatically assume that you are from China, just FYI.”

“If you look to your left, you’ll see a McDonalds. I threw up behind it after spring finals sophomore year.”

“One time, I took a nap on that bench and woke up with a sleeping squirrel on my chest.” 

Seungcheol takes a wrong turn at some point and ends up on the highway out of town. Construction prevents him from getting right back on and he’s forced to take a convoluted detour that leaves them in an unfamiliar part of the county. He hands his phone to Vernon to put in the house address. 

It’s not really Vernon’s fault that he got Pine Street and Pine Avenue confused. He’s new in town. 

Twelve miles in the wrong direction later, they finally manage to head back. 

Only to hit traffic. 

“Who are all these people?” Seungcheol wonders. He looks at the cornfields stretching out on both sides of the road. “Where are they going?”

They inch along for the next 45 minutes, ignoring multiple voice calls from Jeonghan. 

“Vernon, just text him that we’re fine and on our way back. We'll be there in 15 minutes,” says Seungcheol even though the GPS says they wouldn’t be arriving at their destination for another 35. And they haven’t even gotten the keg yet. 

Minghao is on the front porch when they finally, _finally_ get back. “Where the hell were you guys?” he asks. 

“Sorry, lost track of time,” Seungcheol grunts as he and Vernon carry the keg up the front steps, leaving Seungkwan to haul the bags of ice by himself. Minghao notices him struggling and helps him carry the bags into the house. 

The sky’s been dark for almost an hour when it seems like everyone shows up to the party in a span of ten minutes - except for Joy who had arrived at the house, champagne drunk, around 7 PM. Jihoon opens all the windows to air out the accumulated body heat mingled with Essence of College. 

Seungkwan wanders around the party, still nursing his first cup of beer. He talks to a few girls he doesn’t know and a guy from Japanese class before finding himself in semi-circle with Jun, Wonwoo, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan.

Seungcheol is recounting the expedition from earlier that evening. “By the time we got to the liquor store, all they had were Natty Lite kegs which is not my first or even fifth choice but whatever. All the while, Jeonghan is calling every 2 minutes like a stalker.”

“You should have just told me that you had gotten lost! I was worried.”

“He was convinced you guys had been kidnapped,” Wonwoo says. “We had to beg him not to call the police.” 

Seungkwan realizes, with a sleepy blink, that this is the first time he’s heard Wonwoo’s voice, and he’s taken aback by it’s low pitch. He’s not sure what he had expected Wonwoo to sound like but it obviously isn’t that. 

Seungkwan has been to the house enough times to meet the other tenants and has ties with them around campus. He sings in the choir with Jihoon, Joshua, and Seokmin. A high school AP credit had allowed him to skip Intro to American History so he’s in a 200 level Revolutionary War course with Minghao. He plays intramural soccer with Jeonghan and Seungcheol and Mingyu. Both he and Jun work the desk of the library’s print/copy room so they’ve swapped shifts twice. 

And Soonyoung...how does he know Soonyoung? The guy just always seems to be around.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, is a ghost, never on campus or at parties. Seungkwan has caught glimpses of him around the house, nodding at him in acknowledgement before disappearing into his room. Anyone else, he would have gone out of his way to speak with them, burrowing his way past their defenses with his bright personality and irascible charm - it had worked on Jihoon, after all. 

But something about the slant of Wonwoo’s eyes and hard set of his lips disrupts Seungkwan’s friendly impulses and he finds himself being overly cautious.

Jeonghan’s nasally laughter breaks him out of his tipsy reverie. Seungkwan has no idea what they’re laughing about but Wonwoo’s nose is scrunched up in a way he never even fathomed possible.

Perturbed, Seungkwan drinks the last inch of beer in his solo cup. It’s flat and bitter and disgusting but he chokes it down, determined to enjoy it because he’s in college, damn it, so it must be his elixir of choice as it has been for all other college students before him. 

Jun notices and takes pity on him. “The trick to enjoying beer as a newbie is to get drunk off something else first. Then you won’t notice how gross keg beer actually is. You’ll eventually develop a taste for it and you’ll need less and less Pirate’s Bay rum. It’s like, uh, exposure therapy.”

Seungkwan is enrolled in precisely zero psychology classes but doesn’t think Jun is right. Still, he’s unexpectedly touched by the junior’s advice and concern.

“Mingyu is drinking raspberry Smirnoff tonight,” says Wonwoo. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing with you.”

Seungkwan stares at him for a moment too long, astonished at being addressed so directly. “Right,” he says cheerfully, trying not to shrivel under Wonwoo's gaze. “I’ll see if I can find him.”

He turns and forces his way into the crowd of bodies congregated in the living room. He breaks through the other side, near the foyer where he finds exactly who he’s looking for and is surprised to find him alone. 

Mingyu is no less outgoing than Seungkwan, always chatting up the barista at the campus coffee shop or the opposing intramural soccer team. So to see him standing by himself, looking over the rest of the party when normally he’s at the center of the action, seems strange. Seungkwan is debating if he should approach when Mingyu spots him first. 

He pulls the plastic cup that he’s nibbling on away from his mouth. “Hi Seungkwan. What’s up?”

“Um.” He momentarily forgets why he fought his way over before spying the bottle with a bright pink cap in his hand. “Can I have some of that?”

Mingyu perks up at the request. “Yeah, of course.” The cap spins out of his hand as he twists it open and falls somewhere on the floor. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He sloshes a lot more liquor into Seungkwan’s cup than he expects. 

“That-that’s good,” says Seungkwan anxiously. He wants to get drunk but he’s not trying to die of alcohol poisoning a month into college. 

“So are you having fun?” Mingyu asks, tilting the bottle into his own mouth, plastic cup somewhere on the ground along with the cap. 

“Yeah.” Which is true, more or less. “I finally met Wonwoo. He seems nice.”

Mingyu scoffs, tossing his head back dramatically. “He’s an asshole.”

“Really?” Seungkwan asks in surprise. “It seems like half the time I text you, you’re with him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s still an asshole,” Mingyu grumbles and takes another swig of raspberry Smirnoff. 

Seungkwan sort of desperately wants him to elaborate but a flash of neon orange catches his eye. He watches Soonyoung drag Vernon out of the kitchen.

 _Well, well,_ he thinks as Soonyoung hauls the poor freshman in front of a group of girls, gesturing wildly. The girls are obviously appraising Vernon and a few seem interested. 

Mingyu follows Seungkwan’s line of sight to see what’s caught his attention. “Oh no,” he says. “This can’t end well. Soonyoung is a terrible wingman.” He’s clearly speaking from experience. 

Soonyoung turns to Vernon and says something. Vernon hesitates and then nods.

Seungkwan takes a mouthful of his drink and, grimacing, makes up his mind to go over there and save his friend from Soonyoung’s clutches. But before he can peel his shoes off the sticky floor, Soonyoung surges forward, takes Vernon’s face in his hands, and nails him with a kiss on the lips.

Seungkwan’s mouth drops open, dribbling raspberry vodka down the front of his shirt.

The first floor of the house erupts into cheers and screams and whistles. People are stamping their feet and the applause sounds like thunder, drowning out the Post Malone playlist blaring through the speakers.

He feels something pop in his jaw as Vernon allows Soonyoung to snake his tongue into his mouth.

_Holy shit. What the fuck._

Soonyoung finally pulls away and turns toward the crowd with his fists raised into the air like he’s won the fucking Superbowl or something. Impossibly, the cheers grow louder until the force of all the noise shakes the blinds although that could just be an errant breeze blowing in through the window. 

Vernon appears equal parts bewildered and amused by everyone’s enthusiasm. He doesn’t pull away when Soonyoung slings an arm around his shoulder and smacks a kiss on his cheek, and just laughs. 

“You look like you need more,” shouts Mingyu and pours another inch or so into Seungkwan’s cup without waiting for a reply.

Soonyoung turns back to the group of girls who look satisfied with the performance. Each of them pull wrinkled bills out of their cleavage which they slap into Soonyoung’s open palm. He counts out the bills, then hands the entire stack to Vernon, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Oh man,” Mingyu says, positively vibrating with glee. “Seungcheol is going to be _pissed._ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update because I'll be busy for a while and don't know when I'll get back to this.

Vernon decides to see them off on their ski trip, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that used to be white and adidas slides with socks. How anyone could believe he’s a rent boy is beyond Seungkwan. 

Wonwoo pulls his car as close to the dorm as he can without parking on the grass. Joy leans out of the passenger window, looking like an absolute dream. “Good morning!”

Seungkwan marvels at her energy, especially impressive considering that she spent last night with some random guy. He knows this because right before she left the party, she had dragged a stranger up to him and Seungcheol, informed them that she would be leaving with this gentleman, and to take a picture so the police could identify him in case she misses the pick-up for the ski trip. 

Seungcheol had dutifully snapped the guy’s photo and threw in his most menacing glare as a bonus.

Vernon waves back with one hand and covers a yawn with the other. “You didn’t have to come down,” says Chan. “Aren’t your feet cold?”

“It’s okay. I’ll be gone by the time you guys get back and we won’t see each until after winter break.”

Joy cups her hands around her mouth and yells, “that’s really cute!”

Wonwoo opens the trunk of his car and gestures for Seungkwan and Chan to put in their overnight bags. They oblige and Seungkwan tosses his coat after his bag because he gets overheated on long car rides.

He spins with his arms spread. “Come hug us good-bye, Nonie!”

But Vernon’s already trudging back to the dorm, hands stuffed into the pockets of the ratty joggers he’s been wearing every day for the past two weeks. Seungkwan huffs in part mock-rage and part genuine-disappointment because how dare Vernon think he can get away with not waving at them until the car disappears from view?

Ignoring the frigid wind blowing into the sleeves of his t-shirt, Seungkwan runs after Vernon and leaps onto his back. “Hey, asshole!”

“What The Fuck, Seungkwan!” 

“If I fall off a ski lift and die this weekend, I don’t want your last memory of me to be your half-assed send off!”

“You are not going to fall off the ski lift. Unless Jihoon is feeling extra murderous and pushes you.” 

“So you admit it’s possible that I’ll die this weekend?”

Vernon doesn’t answer, just sighs and tucks his arms under Seungkwan’s legs so he doesn’t fall off. He turns and begins walking towards the parking lot with Seungkwan as his backpack. 

Wonwoo’s car is still there which shouldn’t surprise Seungkwan but it does because Seungcheol would have driven around the corner and pretended to leave him by now. He realizes, a little guilty, that Wonwoo’s not even parked in a real spot and would definitely get a ticket if campus patrol decides to show up.

However, he’s trying to make a point so he holds on tight until they reach the car. “Safe travels home,” he says, sliding down Vernon’s back.

“Yeah, you too. Have a good weekend.”

Seungkwan climbs into the backseat of the passenger side. “Sorry about that.” He looks over his shoulder and sees that Vernon is standing in the same spot, waving with his entire arm. He waves back. 

Both Joy and Chan turn in their seats to wave as well. Even Wonwoo rolls down the window and flaps his left hand in a gesture of farewell as he drives away. 

“Is everyone wearing their seatbelt?” Joy asks once they’ve turned the corner and Vernon is out of sight.

Chan answers in the affirmative while Seungkwan quickly buckles himself in. “I feel like we’re going on a road trip with mom and dad,” Chan remarks to Seungkwan in what is probably meant to be a whisper.

Joy hears this and laughs. “Aww, I’d be honored to be your mother for the weekend.” She turns to Wonwoo. “Honey, aren’t our sons so sweet and handsome?”

“Hmmm, I suppose...are you sure they’re mine?”

She smacks Wonwoo's shoulder. “What are you trying to say? That I sleep around so much I don’t even know the paternity of my own children?” _Smack._ “Are you trying to slut-shame me?” _Smack. Smack._

“Ow! No, I’m saying they couldn’t possibly be my blood if they’re so damn sweet.”

Joy clicks her tongue. “You think you’re such a hard-ass, Wonwoo, but we all know better.”

From his position, Seungkwan sees only a fraction of Wonwoo’s profile but he can tell the other boy is smiling and it’s suddenly too hot in the car, even without his jacket. He clears his throat. “Should we put on some music?”

“Excellent idea,” says Joy. “Babe, are you already connected to the audio?”

“Yep.”

“Perfect.” She picks up Wonwoo’s phone from the center console and holds the screen in front of his face to unlock it. 

Wonwoo flinches at the sudden intrusion into his line of sight and the car jerks just enough for everyone to feel it. “Fuck, Joy, you couldn’t wait until I was stopped?”

“Sorry, sorry,” she apologizes while tapping through his phone. “Is this a Spotify premium account? Nice. Let’s see what Wonwoo was listening to...what kind of song is 25 minutes long?”

“It’s a fictional horror story podcast.”

“Oh my god,” Joy groans. “You’re such a dork.”

“Hey, you’re the one who married this dork.”

Chan leans over to Seungkwan and actually manages to whisper this time, “dude, I can’t tell if they’re pretending anymore.”

Obviously they are pretending because Joy and Wonwoo are definitely _not_ legally married. And he’s positive that they’re not dating or even hooking up. But the warmth in Wonwoo’s voice as he plays along with her seems genuine and it makes Seungkwan lean his head against the window and stare at the world flashing by while pretending to be the main character of a sad FLETCHER single.

But Joy selects a playlist full of aggressive, explicit hip hop songs and it sort of ruins the vibe Seungkwan is going for. He sighs and sits up, risking a glance toward the driver’s seat. 

At first Seungkwan thinks that Wonwoo is just mumbling the directions to himself but he quickly realizes that he’s rapping along to every rapid-fired word - not exactly what he expects from wire-rim glasses, slouchy knit-sweater wearing Wonwoo - and Seungkwan carefully leans forward.

“I have a request,” Chan suddenly pipes up, startling Seungkwan into knocking against Joy’s headrest. “I want to hear Wonwoo sing.”

Wonwoo groans while Joy squeals in delight. “Are you a good singer?” she asks.

“No,” he replies while Chan resolutely says, “yes.”

“You’re not bad,” says Seungkwan, rubbing his forehead. He’s never heard him live but Jeonghan had recently sent the freshmans a video of Wonwoo and Jihoon, drunk on a random Tuesday night last year, belting Hakuna Matata.

Wonwoo’s hair is longer in the video, brushing the top of his glasses. Jihoon looks exactly the same. The video is definitely saved on Seungkwan’s phone for future blackmail use, not because Wonwoo looks cute with shaggy hair. 

“That’s high praise coming from Seungkwan,” says Joy. “What do you want to sing?”

“Rewrite the stars,” Chan answers. 

“You - ” Wonwoo takes one hand off the wheel and uselessly swats at the space behind the driver’s seat. “I’m going to kill Mingyu!”

Chan smushes himself as far back as possible, cackling. “Mingyu never told me anything. You took a shower while I was hanging out with Soonyoung in his room.”

Wonwoo curses and grips the steering wheel with both hands. It’s not Soonyoung’s fault that he shares a wall with the first floor bathroom. If anything, Seokmin and Wonwoo (the other first floor occupants) should be grateful that Soonyoung doesn’t go around blabbing all of their jerking off habits. 

“You actually sounded pretty good,” Chan continues. “And you know all the words! Soonyoung and I checked. Please, Wonwoo, pretty please? Seungkwan will sing with you!”

“WH-at?” Seungkwan hisses. 

“Oh come on, you love this song too.”

They roll to a stop at a redlight. Wonwoo sighs and rests his head at the top of the steering wheel. He stays quiet long enough for the atmosphere to chill and Chan fidgets in his seat, clearly wondering if he’s miscalculated. 

“I get to be Zac Efron,” Wonwoo finally says, lifting his head. 

“Ha, you _wish_ you could be Zendaya,” Seungkwan scoffs without really thinking about who he’s talking to. He almost takes it back but Wonwoo glances over at him and smiles, really smiles, and oh, he looks like a different person - soft and dreamy.

Joy immediately searches for the song. “Are you ready?” she asks, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. 

“I suppose.”

Wonwoo is most certainly not ready and misses the first few words of his part but there’s zero intro music to the track so nobody gives him a hard time. 

Chan is right: he sounds pretty good. Much better than he does in the video with Jihoon. He hits every note despite a lack of vocal warm up, even the slightly more intimidating ones. 

_You think it’s easy_

Seungkwan knows the entire soundtrack by heart. Of course he does. But he’s never sang this song with another person (he usually does both Zac and Zendaya), much less with a boy who looks like Wonwoo. 

_He’s an asshole,_ Seungkwan reminds himself as he sings the last heartbreaking verse. _We're bound to break and my hands are tied._

“Not bad for a guy who uses his premium account to listen to podcasts and hardcore rap,” Joy says as she and Chan applaud their performance. “Seungkwan was perfect, of course.”

Wonwoo clears his throat. “Seungkwan, you...Seungkwan, I had no idea. You’re incredible,” he says, a bit breathless with awe and obvious admiration. 

“You would have known if you came to the karaoke party I threw last month.” Joy pokes Wonwoo’s cheek. “You need to get out more.”

“Hey, I’m the one driving us to the Yoon family cabin for a weekend of fun winter activities, am I not?”

Their phones ding simultaneously and Seungkwan assumes Jeonghan is asking for one of them to share their location so he can coordinate a halfway-point bathroom break with all three cars. Instead, it's a group message from Chan to Joy, Seungkwan, and Wonwoo. No text, just a video with an unflattering picture of Chan’s chin as the thumbnail.

Seungkwan presses play.

 _\- a secret I try to hide,_ a familiar low voice radiates from his phone. 

“CHAN!” Wonwoo bellows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: back to the party.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos and for the lovely comments. I've added 'pining' as a tag because that's pretty much what SK will do until he gets it together.

Seungkwan wakes up with a stiff back and the taste of rotten raspberries coating the inside of his mouth. It takes him a few seconds to realize that he’s not in his bed but on the lumpy couch of Seungcheol’s house. Jeonghan’s house? Whatever. The House.

He has a vague memory of Mingyu roping him into a game of razz Smirnoff pong in the nasty basement, Seokmin coming down the stairs to inform them that the cops had arrived and Joshua leaving to speak with them. 

Everything after that is a bit of a blur - he can’t even remember if they won. 

Voices wiggle their way through the thick fog surrounding Seungkwan’s brain: Seungcheol and Soonyoung. They seem to be somewhere in the kitchen and it’s clear that Seungkwan has woken up in the middle of a quarrel. 

“Really?” Soonyoung asks, voice heavy with disbelief. “Really? Seriously? Are you serious?”

“I’m absolutely, fucking serious. Leave. Vernon. Alone.”

“It’s not like he was an unwilling participant! Look, I get that he’s your baby cousin and all but are you forgetting that I was there too? I don’t see you all up in arms about my honor.”

“Yeah! Because everybody already knows you’re crazy! But he’s just a freshman. At our conservative Christian university. I don’t want him to get shit for a stupid party stunt just because you thought it would be hilarious.”

They continue to argue but in fierce hisses, too quiet for Seungkwan to make out what they’re actually saying. He wonders if alerting them to his presence would make things worse or be the break in tension they need. 

“Woooow,” Soonyoung drawls loudly. “You’re a fucking coward, Seungcheol. You realize that?” 

Seungkwan closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep as angry footsteps break away from the conversation and crosses past the living room, into the foyer. The front door opens and then slams shut. 

There’s a curse from the kitchen - Seungcheol - followed by the back entrance opening and crashing back against its frame.

Seungkwan tucks away the overheard conversation to dissect later because he currently doesn’t have the brainpower for it. He forces himself upright and pulls out his phone. He’s at 5% battery which is basically a dead phone.

He really doesn’t want to walk back to campus but also doesn’t want to disturb anyone for a phone charger. Although...the walk is not an impossible one. Yesterday afternoon he and Vernon had - 

_Vernon!_

There’s a moment of heartstopping panic before Seungkwan fishes a fuzzy, floaty memory from the previous night: Vernon letting Seungkwan know that a bunch of freshmans were walking back to campus together and did he want to come with them? 

He had refused, a decision for which he severely resents drunk-Seungkwan, and helps to explain why he woke up on a couch with an almost dead phone and a pounding headache.

A grating squeal of hinges to his immediate left crashes his pity party and there’s Wonwoo with a giant glass bong in one hand and a disgusting frisbee in the other, hovering awkwardly. 

“Um.” Seungkwan doesn’t understand why Wonwoo’s room is the one that opens into the living room since he seems like the kind of guy who likes his privacy. “Good morning.”

Wonwoo nods. “Morning.” He walks forward and carefully sets the bong on the coffee table before taking a seat on the floor. 

“Oh, sorry, do you want to sit?” Seungkwan asks, shuffling to the farthest end of the couch. 

“No, it’s fine,” Wonwoo dismisses and opens a ziplock of what is definitely not oregano. 

After a few, awkwardly quiet seconds, Jun skips into the living room. He’s freshly showered and dressed in real clothes. “Good morning! How was the couch?”

“Fine.” Seungkwan scrubs a hand over his face and feels the oil pooled around his nostrils - gross. “Thanks for putting me up. And sorry, I guess.”

“For what? You’re a champ! Mingyu’s been throwing up all morning.” 

“Hey,” says Wonwoo and gestures towards the bong. “Make yourself useful and fill it with water, a couple ice cubes too, if we have any left.”

“Yes, sir,” Jun says with a mock solute and takes the bong with him into the kitchen.

Silence returns to the living room. Seungkwan desperately wants to say something but he’s afraid he’ll vomit if he opens his mouth. He might still be drunk, now that he thinks about it. 

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind or notice the quiet. His fingers move deftly as he separates the seeds and stems from the leaves of the bud which he rips and pushes into the grinder. 

_He’s actually sort of handsome_ , Seungkwan realizes after observing Wonwoo for a minute. And there’s something enchanting about the intense look of concentration on his face juxtaposed with his birdnest hair and stretch out t-shirt collar.

Light footsteps bounce down the stairs and Joshua comes to stand between the threshold of the living and dining room. “Morning. I’m borrowing Minghao’s car and heading to campus if you want a ride back.” 

The sun decides to peek out from behind the clouds at that moment. Light spills through the window and illuminates Joshua’s form in a warm, radiant glow. Seungkwan is struck dumb because he’s in the presence of a literal angel. 

“Or if you want to hang out here a little bit longer, Jihoon will be going to Sunday service at the chapel in a few hours with Seokmin and Jeonghan,” Joshua continues. 

“I’d love a ride,” says Seungkwan, finally unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Wait, Jeonghan is going to service? Doesn’t he burst into flames if he walks on consecrated ground?”

Wonwoo laughs, the force of which rattles the errant seeds and stems around the frisbee. 

“Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll take it as a compliment.” Joshua pulls out his phone and stares at something on the screen. “One sec. Let me answer this email and then we can go.”

“Sure thing.” Seungkwan locates his shoes half-hidden beneath the couch and shoves his feet into them, crushing the back collars beneath his heels.

Jun comes out of the kitchen, holding the bong for Wonwoo’s inspection. “Is this too much water?”

“It’s fine,” Wonwoo replies and tamps the ground leaves in the bowl one last time. 

“I heard you laughing,” Jun says, gently handing off the apparatus. “What was so funny?”

Wonwoo shakes his head with a small smile. “Nothing. It was just…” He trails off while squinting at Seungkwan, his smile fading. 

_Asshole doesn’t remember my name_ , Seungkwan realizes. He hates when Mingyu is right!

Wonwoo slides the bowl into the joint and gestures towards him. “Uh, do you want a hit?”

“No thank you,” Seungkwan says because he’s a little miffed and also, it’s not a good idea to get crossfaded before Sunday service.

“I do!” Jun raises his hand. “Can I go first? My sister is about to pick me for breakfast any minute.” 

Wonwoo nods, rising from the floor, and settles on the end of the couch opposite Seungkwan. 

Much to Seungkwan’s confusion, Wonwoo raises the mouthpiece to his own lips and with the swipe of his thumb over the wheel of the lighter, takes a deep, gurgling hit. 

Jun grins and leans forward until his face is less than two inches from Wonwoo’s. He tries to slide a hand up Wonwoo’s neck but Wonwoo slaps it away so he places it on the back of the couch for balance, with a pout so exaggerated he had clearly expected that reaction. 

Wonwoo parts his lips and opaque white smoke floats into Jun’s open mouth. 

_What the fuck? Am I asleep right now?_ Seungkwan thinks as he watches Jun inhale every wisp Wonwoo blows out. _Is this a fever dream? An acid trip?_

Joshua glances over at them but there’s absolutely no change in his expression as he continues to tap away on his phone. 

Jun straightens to a stand and exhales smoke from his nostrils. Somewhere, a phone vibrates. “Oh, that’s probably Jia. Bye Josh! Bye Wonwoo! See you around, Seungkwan!” He disappears in a flurry of sparkles and lingering smoke. 

Joshua finally puts his phone away. “Ready?” he asks. “See ya, Wonwoo.”

“Yep,” Wonwoo replies, picking up the TV remote. 

Seungkwan follows Joshua to the dirt lot around the side of the house where everyone parks their cars. He desperately wants to know the deal with Wonwoo and Jun because friends don’t shotgun friends, right? That’s a _couples_ thing - right? Unless in college, bros totally blow smoke into each other’s mouths and it’s not gay - maybe? 

“Jun’s a big baby when it comes to smoking,” Joshua says as if he knows exactly what Seungkwan is thinking. “And he won’t take edibles after a brownies disaster his freshman year. We all take turns, just whoever happens to be around, because cannabis mellows him out a bit.”

“Okay,” Seungkwan says as if he’s not freaked out by Joshua’s telepathic abilities. Or maybe he’s just that easy to read. They climb into Minghao’s Jeep Wrangler and head in the direction of campus. “So just to be clear, Wonwoo and Jun are strictly friends of the platonic variety?”

“They are,” Joshua confirms. “Jun is like that with everyone - no doubt once he gets more comfortable with you, he’ll have no problem invading your personal space. And Wonwoo is Wonwoo.”

Which means absolutely nothing to Seungkwan except what Mingyu said before the raspberry Smirnoff turned their brains to mush: Wonwoo’s an asshole.

***

Jeonghan directs the caravan to a Murphy’s Kitchen, a diner within a gas station off exit 23. Wonwoo’s the last to arrive but not by much as Jeonghan is still at the pump next to Seungcheol’s Honda Civic when they pull in.

Seungkwan scrambles out of the car, happy for a chance to stretch his legs despite the cold. He sees Yuju and her housemates seated at a booth through the diner’s windows and Seungcheol passing a juul to Seokmin by the entrance. 

“Let us know how much we owe you for gas,” says Joy. 

“You guys are good,” says Wonwoo, unscrewing the gas cap. “Except for Chan unless he deletes that video.”

“No way. I’m selling it for three bucks to anyone who wants to see it so chipping in for gas money will be no problem.”

“Guuuys!” Seungcheol calls, waving at them with one hand and holding the door with his other. 

Seungkwan only feels a little big bad leaving Wonwoo all by himself because the chill rips through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, raising the gooseflesh on his arms and, unfortunately, tautening his nipples. 

Inside, the dinner is warm and smells like cooking grease and sugar. Joy sits with Yuju and her housemates while Seungkwan, Chan, Seungcheol and Seokmin take the booth behind them. They have a clear view of the gas station pumps and Chan asks Seungcheol, “why is Jeonghan pumping your gas?”

“He said he’d pay if I let him pick the music. Which seemed like a good idea at the time. Huge mistake.” Seungcheol sighs. “How’s driving with Yuju and her friends?”

“Traumatizing,” Seokmin answers, his eyes glazing over. “They've talked nonstop about sex the entire ride. All they care about is riding dick, eating ass, and pegging.”

“Ahem.”

They swivel their heads toward the sound like a mob of meerkats. Their server, a teenage girl with braces and cute freckles, smiles nervously at them. “Can I bring anybody something to drink to get started?” she asks. 

“Uh, coffee please,” Seungcheol replies after a beat. The others quickly ask for the same.

“What’s pegging?” Chan asks once their server has disappeared. 

Seungcheol plucks a menu from behind the napkin holder and says, “it’s when a government sets a specific fixed exchange rate for its own currency to another foreign currency.”

Seokmin’s forehead wrinkles and he opens his mouth to say something. But Seungcheol shoots him a look over the laminate menu and Seokmin shuts up. 

Wonwoo and Jeonghan enter the diner with Jihoon (a bottle of blue Gatorade in his hand) and Mingyu (shoving the last of a gas station hot dog into his mouth) right behind them. Jihoon makes a show of not wanting to sit next to Mingyu or across from Mingyu or diagonally from Mingyu after they’ve already taken their seats in the last open booth, resulting in a lot of curious stares from the other patrons. 

“How’s riding with Wonwoo?” Seungcheol asks, pretending he is not affiliated with the whining, full-grown Asian men just one table over. 

Chan perks. “Really productive! I have a video of Wonwoo and Seungkwan singing a duet that I’m selling for three dollars.”

Seokmin whips out his phone. “Do you take Venmo?”

“Three dollars?” Seungcheol moans. “You know that video of Wonwoo and Jihoon was recorded on _my_ phone? And you got it for free!”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before letting Jeonghan have it,” says Chan. “For a guy who knows a lot about pegging, you sure are a bad businessman.”

“What was that?” Jeonghan’s icy voice cuts over. He’s staring directly at Seungcheol. 

“Pegging,” Chan says loudly enough for half the diner to hear. 

“L-look, I didn’t - it’s not what - ow!” Seungcheol winces as Jeonghan reaches over and grabs his ear. 

The girls whoop and cheer but whether it’s for pegging or for Jeonghan, Seungkwan can’t tell. 

“Ow! Why the fuck is your hand so strong? Chan, tell him what I told you” Seungcheol pleads.

“You said it’s that thing when a woman penetrates a man’s anus with a strap-on dildo,” says Chan, eyes wide and full of innocence. 

Jihoon sputters around a mouthful of Gatorade, creating a small, bright blue flood on their table. 

Jeonghan twists his hand and Seungcheol keens like a dog whistle. “Chan, I forbid you from knowing that. Your mother will kill me.” 

Seungkwan feels his cheeks heat up with embarrassment because these people are his _friends_. He sees their server holding a tray of coffees and she looks horrified at the behavior in front of her. Out of the corner of his eye, a man in a Murphy’s Kitchen polo, probably the manager, heads in their direction. 

He cannot believe they’re about to get kicked out of a diner/gas station. 

Looking around for, he doesn’t know, an escape route or something, he catches Wonwoo’s eye. Wonwoo lowers the fist he had over his mouth and imperceptibly jerks his head toward the door. 

They’re both sitting on the outer end of their respective booths. 

Seungkwan gives him a discreet nod. He takes a five dollar bill out of his wallet and slides it on the table. He makes sure the server notices the cash and mouths ‘sorry’ before taking off. He can hear Wonwoo close on his heels.

They run past the gas pumps to the small parking lot and collapse against the side of Wonwoo’s car in a fit of hysterical giggles. “God, you can’t take them anywhere,” says Seungkwan. 

“Absolutely not,” Wonwoo says with so much fondness that Seungkwan melts just a little. “Oh no, poor kid.”

Chan is staring at them through the window, pouting, his hands pressed up against the glass. He’s trapped next to Seokmin who wouldn’t have the balls to run out while the manager, presumably, tells them they are no longer welcome at Murphy’s Kitchen.

Wonwoo huffs out a final chuckle. He leans against his car and tilts his head back, eyes closed.

It’s the perfect opportunity for Seungkwan to study Wonwoo’s profile and no matter many times he looks away and then back again, he reaches the same conclusion: it’s unfair how handsome Wonwoo looks from that angle. 

“Thanks for driving,” Seungkwan blurts before his thoughts can devolve into something that will haunt him for the rest of the weekend. Wonwoo opens his eyes and looks at him. “I’m...I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says with a tinge of surprise. “Me too.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some background info.

_Seungkwan! Hey, Seungkwan!_

He almost doesn’t hear his name over the sorrowful warble of Adele’s ‘When We Were Young’ but Seungkwan’s got a strangely acute sixth sense for when someone is talking about him - like a tickle on the end of his nose or itch behind the knee. 

He takes out his headphones and turns around, not expecting the face he sees. “Chan?”

Chan Lee jogs over to him with a bright smile and a boy he doesn’t recognize in tow. “I thought that was you! How have you been?”

“Good. I...do you go here?” 

“Yeah, man.” Chan cocks his head to the side. “We talked about it at Meg’s graduation party a few months ago.”

Guilt pools heavily in Seungkwan’s stomach. He had a lot of rum and diet Coke that night and doesn’t even remember seeing Chan at the party. “R-right.”

Chan laughs. “I’m just kidding. I had no idea you’re here either!” He glances at the building Seungkwan just left. “You live in Hobell too?”

“Yeah. Third floor, towards the south. I usually go out the back but it’s broken right now.”

“Well, I guess that helps to explain why we haven’t run into each other yet. By the way, this is my roommate, Vernon.” He points to the boy next to him. “Vernon, this is Seungkwan. We went to the same high school.”

Seungkwan and Vernon exchange greetings and a handshake. _He’s cute_ , Seungkwan thinks. _Even though he’s dressed like...that._

“Hey, I gotta get going but what’s your number? We should hang out,” Chan says, taking out his phone.

Seungkwan recites his phone number. He feels his pocket buzz a few seconds later and assumes it’s the obligatory ‘hey its chan’ introductory text. 

“It was nice meeting you,” Vernon says as he follows his roommate into Hobell.

Seungkwan doesn’t expect Chan to actually follow through. It’s not as if he and Chan Lee were particularly close in high school. All they really have in common are a few mutual friends, an English class during junior year, and their shared ethnicity.

Besides, it seems exchanging info is just what everyone does their first week of college. Seungkwan barely recognizes anyone in his feed and has yet to save anyone’s phone number with a corresponding name.

But Chan texts him that same evening, inviting Seungkwan off campus.

_Today 9:13 AM_

_Chan lee_

_Today 7:12 PM_

_Hey do you want to come to my friends house_

_Hes coming to pick me and vernon up in frnt of hobell in a few_

_Its not a party or anything just pizza_

_No pressure if youre busy or already ate_

Seungkwan has, in fact, already eaten dinner but his roommate keeps throwing dirty looks at him from his bed where he and his girlfriend have been aggressively making out for twenty minutes. He’s tempted to stay just to be a spiteful cockblock but Seungkwan isn’t 100 percent certain his roommate won’t whip out his dick regardless of his presence.

He grabs his phone and a zip-up. “See you guys later.”

His roommate doesn’t reply but his girlfriend, Ariel, waves and says sweetly, “Have a good night, Seungkwan!”

* 

Due to an unexpected change in brunch plans (McDonald’s drive-thru, no way in hell were they risking getting kicked out of two dining establishments in one morning), the caravan arrives at their destination a little later than planned. 

“Thanks for driving, babe,” Joy says to Wonwoo as they pull up to the Yoon family cabin although ‘cabin’ is a bit of a mischaracterization. 

Seungkwan nearly breaks his neck looking up at the log & timber monstrosity before them. “Hey Chan, is Jeonghan...rich?” He can’t think of a more polite way to ask. 

“I mean, yeah.” Chan hands Seungkwan his jacket and overnight bag from Wonwoo’s trunk. “He doesn’t really act like it except that he drives a Range Rover and treats it like a KIA. That’s why it’s always in the shop.” 

“Huh, I guess that explains a few things.” Seungkwan follows Chan inside and feels like he’s stepped into a slideshow presentation of ski cabin timeshares. 

There’s tan leather couches and seating facing a stone-hearth fireplace, and a bowl of wicker balls in a decorative bowl on the wooden coffee table. Paintings of nature adorn the walls except for one which is entirely made of windows, framing the snow-dusted trees and white hills outside. 

“Man, I thought this place is nice in the summer but I think I prefer the winter,” Jihoon says to no one in particular as he passes, a 24-case of Bud Light in his hands. “Good of Jeonghan to invite us back after last time.” 

“Well, the lake is probably frozen which means Soonyoung won’t be able to accidentally flip over the canoe with both of them in it,” says Mingyu, He hands Seungkwan a bottle of Pepe Lopez tequila, a mesh bag of limes, and a salt shaker stolen from the University’s cafeteria. “Take these. There’ s still a ton of stuff in Seungcheol’s trunk to get.”

Seungkwan quickly shifts his grip on his jacket and bag so as to not drop anything, silently cursing Mingyu. Once he’s pretty sure he’s not going to splatter cheap tequila all over the nice hardwood floor, he heads in the direction he saw Jihoon go earlier. He finds the kitchen where Jeonghan is furiously opening and closing the cabinets. 

“Why do we have eight open jars of peanut butter?” he grumbles and turns around to look at Seungkwan. “You’re not allergic, are you?”

“No, but Vernon is,” Seungkwan supplies unhelpfully. He puts the tequila, limes, and contraband salt on the marble counter.

Seokmin joins them and asks, “Are you sure it’s okay with your parents that we’re here?” He sets two plastic handles of Popov vodka next to Pepe and Seungkwan throws up in his mouth a little. 

“Of course.” Jeonghan glances over Jihoon’s shoulder into the fridge being stocked with Bud Light. “Okay, nobody eats anything in there without checking the expiration date first. Cheol! Seungcheol! Choi Seungcheol! We need to go to the store!” He stalks out of the kitchen in search of his friend.

Jihoon closes the fridge. “Okay, now that Mom is preoccupied with bossing Dad around.” From a cabinet, he pulls out three plastic tumblers decorated with faded and scratched-up images of Toy Story characters. “Seokmin.”

“Got it.” Seokmin tears through the mesh bag and pulls out a lime. He digs a thumb beneath one end and begins to peel the skin. 

“Um, what is happening?” Seungkwan asks, alarmed. 

“I’m really good at peeling fruit,” Seokmin says in lieu of a real explanation. 

Jihoon pours a little bit of Pepe Lopez into each cup, gauges, and adds another splash. 

“I call Mr. Potato Head.” Seokmin pulls apart the wedges of the naked lime. 

“What? Fine. Whatever.” Jihoon hands each of them a tumbler with an inch or so of tequila. 

Seungkwan, resigned to taking tequila shots while the sun is still up, reaches for the salt but Seokmin shakes his head. 

“No, we drink like men,” he says solemnly. 

Seungkwan wants to argue that they’re about to take shots from cups decorated with _toys for fuck’s sake_ but decides it’s not worth the effort. Besides, if Seokmin Lee isn’t going to salt his wrist, then Seungkwan sure as hell isn’t about to either. 

Jihoon holds up his Buzz Lightyear. “Cheers.”

*

“Sweet ride,” Vernon says to Jeonghan in a way that sounds almost natural coming from him but would sound absolutely idiotic from Seungkwan. 

“It’s not mine but I’ll let Minghao know you think so,” says Jeonghan. 

“What happened to your car?” Chan asks. 

“Ah, I ran over a curb a few months back and the tire pressure has been acting up since. And my front bumper has a scratch from knocking into a street sign which I’ve been meaning to get fixed for a while.”

Seungkwan lifts his hand and clutches the handle attached to the roof. If he dies in a car full of strangers and one acquaintance, he is going to kill Chan. 

Luckily, they arrive at their destination without incident. Well, one small incident involving a stubborn pigeon that wouldn’t move until Jeonghan honked at it. But they’re alive for which Seungkwan is grateful. 

The house is a two-story, redbrick square with a surprisingly nice porch that wraps around the sides. Jeonghan parks next to a Honda Civic and leads them inside. They’re immediately assaulted by rancorous laughter and the smell of pepperoni. 

To the immediate right is a set of stairs which Seungkwan assumes leads to bedrooms. Moving forward, the space opens into a living room and dining room ambiguously separated by a wide plaster arch. Open pizza boxes and bottles of beer litter every possible surface.

“Hey, you guys made it!” One of the boys on the couch jumps up and wraps Vernon in a bearhug. “How was your first almost full week of college? Dude! Did I tell you? My mom keeps texting and reminding me not to buy alcohol for you.” 

“Yeah? What did you tell her?”

“That I wouldn’t dream of being a bad influence,” he replies and hands Vernon a bottle of Miller High Life. 

“Hey, everyone, this is Chan’s friend from high school, Seungkwan!” Jeonghan shouts. 

“Seungkwan? Nice to meet you. I’m Seungcheol.” Vernon’s good influence holds out his hand. 

“Nice to meet you too,” Seungkwan replies, hoping he remembers Seungcheol’s name at the end of the night. 

He’s introduced to the other four boys in the living room in maddeningly quick succession. The only one that sticks in his brain is the one sitting at the end of the couch, legs elegantly crossed,drinking what appears to be wine out of a clear plastic cup. 

Minghao: fellow classmate in his Revolutionary War class and owner of the Jeep. He nods at Seungkwan with a small smile which Seungkwan returns. 

He settles between Chan and Seokmin(?) who hands him a paper towel and slice of cheese pizza.

“Where are the Juniors?” Jeonghan asks, stealing a sip of Seungcheol’s beer even though there’s plenty to go around. 

“Soonyoung is at work, Jun went to the gym,” Mingyu - Seungkwan thinks - says, ticking off on his fingers. “Jihoon went to hang out with Daniel, and Wonwoo is who knows.”

They settle into talking to whoever is in their immediate vicinity and Seungkwan gets pulled into a conversation with Seokmin and Joshua about golf. Which he knows next to nothing about but that doesn’t deter him from making conversation. 

“So intramural soccer starts next week,” Jeonghan addresses the room in a rare quiet lull. “Chan, are you available Tuesday and Thursday afternoon?”

“Shit, I wish,” says Chan. “But that’s when KSA meets and I’ve already committed.”

“Well, I believe in letting everyone make their own mistakes. Vernon? Seungkwan?”

Vernon shakes his head. “I’d like to help but I’m really, really bad at soccer.”

“It’s true,” says Seungcheol. 

“I don’t have anything going on,” says Seungkwan. He pressed his fingers to his cheeks which are warm from the one beer he managed to choke down. “Do you need a goalie?”

Jeonghan’s eyes light up. “Absolutely.”

Much like with Chan, Seungkwan does not expect Jeonghan to actually reach out to him about soccer but around 11 AM on Tuesday, he gets a text from an unknown number, asking if he’s still down to play. 

So at 4 PM, Seungkwan makes his way to the field behind the Bio building which is clustered with groups of boys and girls in various athletic wear. He wanders until he finds Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Mingyu. The rest of the team is a mix of their acquaintances. 

They don’t win which nobody else seems to mind but bothers Seungkwan’s competitive streak. “Sorry, I’m a bit rusty,” he apologizes but Jeonghan just claps him on the shoulder and invites him back to the house for dinner. 

Dinner is courtesy of Soonyoung who works at a sandwich shop called Pill Dickles. The logo is an anthropomorphic pickle with two pimento olives for shoes. “It’s the oldest independent restaurant in town,” Soonyoung proudly informs him. 

“That’s cool,” Seungkwan replies, wondering if Soonyoung realizes the silkscreen print on his work shirt looks like a penis wearing sunglasses. 

The first choral practice of the year is the next day and as soon as he walks into the chapel, he spots Seokmin and Joshua waving at him. They introduce him to another housemate, Jihoon, who nods at him before looking away.

“He’s actually really nice. He’s just shy,” Seokmin whispers. 

Seungkwan decides he is going to make Jihoon love him.

When Jun approaches Seungkwan in the library’s copy room, he prays that it’s an easy question. It’s his first week of work and he’s still getting to know how the archaic print system operates. 

But Jun merely introduces himself as another member of the house and says he’s heard a lot about Seungkwan.

He’s unexpectedly touched by this and fears his excitement comes across as off-putting. But Jun responds in kind with a blinding smile and tells him to come by the following evening. 

“So I’ve been told there are ten people living here,” says Seungkwan, gesturing around the living room which is crowded with the housemates plus a few girls from their intramural soccer team. “But I’ve only met nine. Who am I missing?”

“Hmmm.” Chan looks thoughtful. “Probably Wonwoo.”

“Yeah, Wonwoo,” Vernon agrees. 

“Who is that?” Seungkwan asks, far more intrigued than he would be if he hadn’t been on his third gin and tonic.

“He lives here.”

“Well duh. What’s he like?”

Chan and Vernon look at each other and shrug. “He’s got a pointy face and wears glasses,” says Chan.

“He’s cool,” Vernon adds.

Seungkwan frowns. “That’s it?” He’s about to ask them to elaborate but his attention is stolen by a game that Mingyu and Minghao are playing involving rock-paper-scissors and a pair of giant, fuzzy dice. 

More and more people arrive at the house - not enough for a full party but enough that Seungkwan doesn’t catch everybody’s name. He forgets all about the mysterious tenth housemate and focuses on beating Jihoon’s winning streak of Fuzzy Dice. 

After another G&T, half a beer, and white wine cooler, Seungkwan stumbles his way to the first floor bathroom. It’s occupied, judging by the closed door, and he minds his manners, waiting patiently by leaning against the opposite wall. 

Just as he contemplates taking a piss in the bushes behind the house, the door opens and he’s faced with a stranger with narrow eyes behind round, wire rim frames perched on the end of his sharp nose.

“Um.” Seungkwan blinks. “Hello.”

The stranger stares at him for a second before flattening his mouth into what might be a smile, possibly a scowl, and quietly moving past him. 

_Wonwoo_ , Seungkwan thinks to himself, all urgency to pee vanished. _He exists._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just...silliness. Forgive me.

Seungcheol bitches and moans for five minutes straight before reluctantly agreeing to accompany Jeonghan to the local grocery store so they don’t starve to death. Jeonghan, who’s never satisfied until he receives enthusiastic compliance, continues to nag. 

“Look at him!” Jeonghan squishes Seungkwan’s face in his hands. “He’s clearly famished! Who knows how much longer he’ll last without Pizza Rolls?”

Seungkwan pushes him away, afraid that Jeonghan will be able to smell the tequila. Also, he does not look attractive with his cheeks smooshed together. 

“And this one!” Jeonghan slings an arm around Wonwoo’s waist. “It’s like hugging a xylophone!”

“I get it,” says Seungcheol, pulling on his jacket. “There’s nothing to eat except peanut butter and limes.”

“And Mingyu!” Jeonghan dramatically flops against the said boy. “He could’ve been the next Yao Ming if only he’d gotten the nutrients!”

“Dude, you’ve made your fucking point.” Seungcheol wraps a scarf around his neck and mimes strangulation. “Let’s go before I kill you and this turns into a weekend of murder instead of fun winter activities.”

“You’re in charge while I’m gone,” Jeonghan says to Mingyu before releasing him. 

Jihoon shakes his head. “Horrible decision.”

Seungcheol and Jeonghan finally leave, bickering over who should drive as the door closes behind them.

They’re gone all of one second before Mingyu rubs his hands together and announces, “okay since Jeonghan left me in charge, I’m making an executive decision. We’re. Taking. Shots.”

Seokmin gasps. “Without Seungcheol?” 

Seungkwan understands his hesitation. Seungcheol has serious FOMO and gets sulky when his friends drink without him. 

Mingyu’s excitement momentarily falters before saying, “What dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I mean, it’s not like we’ll be plastered before they get back.”

(None of them know this at the time but Mingyu is wrong.)

They finish off a fifth of Grey Goose L’Orange - a gift from Jamie’s boyfriend who couldn’t join them this weekend- which doesn’t amount to very much per person split between the ten of them so they start on the beers. 

Chan finds an old deck of Coca-Cola Christmas theme playing cards in one of the kitchen drawers while looking for a spoon so he can eat a scoop of peanut butter. He brings it back to the living room. Off to the side by the dining room, Joy and Seokmin are engaged in a furious game of Battleship.

The others are just lounging around, waiting for the alcohol to kick in while scrolling through their phone. Seungkwan has taken up residence on the carpet in front of the couch which is occupied by Mingyu and Wonwoo. 

“Anybody want to play King’s Cup?” Chan asks, sitting on the floor by the coffee table. 

Jihoon groans from his spot on the loveseat. “Can we not? I’m still traumatized by the last time we played.”

Seungkwan shudders, remembering the urge to sympathy vomit while Jihoon guzzled a Solo cup filled with a mix of spiced rum, vodka, gin, diet ginger ale, Tabasco sauce, raw oysters, minced garlic, and ranch dressing.

“We can play another card game,” Wonwoo suggests. “Ride The Bus or Fuck The Dealer, maybe?”

“Are you going to be the dealer?” Barb asks. She’s perched on the leather ottomon on the other side of the coffee table. 

“If you’d like.”

She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. The neckline of her shirt dips to show off her cleavage and she’s suddenly got a look of keen interest, as if seeing Wonwoo for the first time. “Alright,” she says. “Let’s fuck.” 

Seungkwan abruptly stands, his legs moving before his brain can command him to be cool.

_Be coo- welp, too late. Everyone is looking at you now._

“Seungkwan?” Chan says his name like a question: _are you going somewhere?_

Seungkwan hands his half-empty can of Bud Light to Mingyu. “You can have this. I’m going to make myself a mixed drink. Go ahead and play without me.”

“We can wait,” says Wonwoo. 

Seungkwan turns toward him, another involuntary movement. Wonwoo holds out his hands and Chan tosses over the deck.

“I need a refresher on how to play anyways,” he continues, pulling the worn cards out of its box and riffling the deck with his thumb. 

“Okay, well, I…” His eyes are drawn to Wonwoo’s hands sliding and dropping the cards in an overhand shuffle. “...will be right back.” He stumbles on his way to the kitchen, the tequila and vodka getting better of the McMuffin at the bottom of his stomach, and doesn’t look back to see if anyone saw.

There’s no mixer except for a carton of orange juice that expired over a year ago so Seungkwan breaks into the box of Franzia. The flavor is Sunset Blush, whatever that means, probably their version of rose. 

Jihoon is finishing up reminding Wonwoo of the rules when Seungkwan gets back to the living room with a FULL glass of boxed wine. 

“Okay, okay, I got it,” says Wonwoo. “We’ll go clockwise, starting with Jamie.”

  
  
  
  


Seungcheol bursts into the cabin like the Abominable Groceryman with five plastic bags hanging from each arm, a gallon of milk in his right hand and a bushel of bananas in his left. “We’re back,” he announces, stomping the snow off his boots. 

Jeonghan is right behind him, empty handed. He spots Wonwoo laying on the ground and clutching a bottle of water to his forehead. “What the hell happened to him?” he asks, sounding more amused than worried. 

“Gangbanged,” Chan replies solemnly. 

Mingyu dissolves into a fit of giggles, clawing at his stomach. 

“Are you guys - ” Seungcheol lets the grocery bags slide off his arms, the milk and bananas thud on the floor. “Drunk? Without me?” at the same time Jeonghan yells, “Gangbanged? Mingyu, how could you let this happen?”

“Are there any more groceries to grab from the car?” Yuju asks, scooping up some of the bags that Seungcheol had dropped on the floor in his hissy fit. She looks anxious and Jeonghan softens because he’s fond of her.

“No, we got everything in one trip. Thank you, though.” Jeonghan turns to Seuncheol. “I think you should take him upstairs.” He doesn’t specify but it’s obvious who he’s referring to. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Seungcheol toes off his boots and walks over to Wonwoo. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you to bed.”

Wonwoo lets the water bottle in his hand roll away. “I can’t even. Just leave me here to die on this expensive rug.”

“You’re not dying.” Seungcheol snakes his arms beneath Wonwoo’s back and legs and stands, holding the boy in a bridal carry. “Don’t be overdramatic. That’s Jeonghan’s job.” 

“Ugh, this is humiliating,” Wonwoo groans but he’s otherwise completely still in Seungcheol’s hold, head thrown back with his throat exposed. 

Seungkwan is somewhere between mother-hen tipsy and stuff-an-entire-pizza-in-his-face drunk. He thinks about the Pizza Rolls in one of the bags that Yuju and Jeonghan took to the kitchen but notices Barb watching the entire exchange between Seungcheol and Wonwoo. He scoops up the runaway water bottle. “I’ll help you since you’ve got your hands full.”

Seungcheol carries Wonwoo like he weighs nothing up a flight of stairs and to the room farthest away from the debauchery. Seungkwan follows behind them and makes a mental to note to never fuck with Seungcheol because dude is strong. He opens the door and turns on the light, pulls back the comforter on the full size bed in the corner so Seungcheol can gently deposit Wonwoo on the mattress.

“I haven’t seen him this drunk since the night we shot the Fifth Harmony dance video.” Seungcheol pulls Wonwoo’s glasses off his face and puts them on the bedside table. 

“I’m sorry, the which harmony what huh?” Seungkwan asks because surely he’s heard wrong. 

But Seungcheol just puts a finger to his lips and points at Wonwoo who’s curled up with the comforter tucked under his chin and breathing evenly. He goes to the adjoined bathroom and brings back the wastebasket to put next to bed.

Seungkwan feels a lump form in his throat because Seungcheol is such a good friend and not just some meathead business major. Seungcheol is a gentleman and a scholar.

Seungkwan blinks back tears as he’s led out of the room with a gentle hand on his back. God, he always gets so emotional when wine drunk. 

“So what actually happened?” Seungcheol asks, steering him towards the stairs.

“Well, we were playing Fuck The Dealer and didn’t tell Wonwoo that he’s supposed to pass off the role of the dealer after winning a few turns so he kept dealing and getting fucked... over. And I guess at Daniel’s, the last round is done with shots and since everyone except Joy and Seokmin were playing…” Seungkwan trails off. 

“Ah.” Seungcheol understands. “Gangbang indeed.”

  
  


*

  
  


When Seungkwan goes home for winter break, he’ll meet up with his friend, Sonja, at the Sheepshead Diner where they had dinner before prom. 

She’ll order a Greek salad and save all the chunks of feta for last. “So you’re really friends with Chan Lee now?”

He’ll nod and tell her about running into him and his roommate the first week and how the three of them hung out almost every day after that. How through Chan, he was basically adopted by a house of upperclassmen who make sure he’s never hungry or sober.

“You know, don’t take this the wrong way but I’m really glad you’ve made friends with other boys,” she’ll say sincerely. 

And he’ll understand where she’s coming from. In high school, his main circle of friends were players on the varsity girl’s volleyball team and his secondary circle a select few members of theater, also girls.

“Tell me about them.”

He won’t know where to start. 

  
  
  
  


“What are you supposed to be? A Chippendale dancer?” Seungkwan asks Mingyu when he opens the door to let him, Chan, and Vernon into the house. 

Mingyu points to the rabbit ears adorning his head. “I’m a Playboy Bunny. Duh.” 

Right. Duh. Seungkwan had been too distracted by Mingyu’s toplessness to notice the ears. 

The only other housemate around is Seungcheol in a Houston Astros jersey, sitting on the couch with a beer on his knee. “Nice crayon costume, Seungkwan.” He nods approvingly. “Why aren’t you two dressed up?”

“I am!” Chan flips the hood of his zip up over his head to show the felt cones he had safety-pinned in a left-right bisecting line. “I’m a dinosaur.”

“Alright, you pass. Very cute, Chan.” He looks at Vernon. “Who the hell are you?”

Vernon touches the black tight fitting beanie on his head and looks down at his gray hoodie and baggy jeans. “Eminem from 8 Mile. I thought it’s pretty obvious.”

“Probably be more obvious if we hadn’t seen you in that exact outfit a few days ago.”

The doorbell rings and Seungcheol goes to answer it. “Hi Joy, come on in.”

“Hey - woah. Is that a baseball bat in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” Joy asks. 

“What?” Seungcheol sounds alarmed. 

Seungkwan and the others see for themselves when he returns to the living room with Joy. She’s dressed in a flannel shirt tucked into jeans and under a pair of suspenders, a fake mustache and beard meticulously glued around her mouth. But they’ll notice her outfit later because in that instant, all eyes are drawn to Seungcheol standing in the archway. 

“Dude, your pants…”

“Oh, yeah.” Seungcheol scratches his head, blushing. “They’re from high school so they’re a little tight.”

“A little tight?” Seungkwan echoes incredulously. The only full length mirror in the house is in Minghao’s room (a fact that Seungkwan had been unsurprised to learn) but he finds it hard to believe that Seungcheol can’t at least _feel_ the problem. 

“Yeah,” Seungcheol bristles. “Just a little. I haven’t gained _that_ much weight since high school. I’ve mostly bulked up from hitting the - ”

“We can see your dick,” Vernon interrupts. “In way too much detail.”

Joy smothers a laugh by sticking her face into the giant sequined tote bag she’s carrying. Chan cringes and lowers his head in secondhand embarrassment. 

Seungcheol’s blush deepens to almost purple. “Mingyu, you said these pants look fine.”

Mingyu shrugs and fiddles with the black bowtie around his naked neck. “I thought that’s what you were going for.”

Soonyoung chooses that moment to join them. “Joy! Finally! You’re here!” He looks at Seungcheol. “Hey, nice penis.”

“Alright, fuck you guys,” Seungcheol announces and storms off. 

“Sheesh, what’s wrong with him?” Soonyoung asks, not actually expecting an answer. “Joy, your beard looks amazing.”

“Why thank you.” She strokes at the bristly hairs on her chin with a red manicured hand. “Are you ready for yours?”

“So ready! Let’s go to the bathroom where the lighting is better.”

“Perfect.” She digs a jar out of her tote and tosses it to Mingyu. “Here’s that body glitter you wanted.”

He catches it easily, face lit up with a smile that shows off his sharp canines. “You’re the best!” 

“Wow, you guys go all out for Halloween,” Chan says as he watches Mingyu smear silver glitter in a thin layer all over his pecs. 

“Not really. It’s just that most parties won’t let you in without a costume.” He holds out the jar to Seungkwan. “Will you get my back please?”

Seungkwan warily takes the jar and some of the grainy lotion between his fingers. It smells toxic but since it’s from Joy, it’s probably okay. She wouldn’t let Mingyu poison himself, right?

He’s just finished glittering Mingyu’s shoulders when Joshua and Jeonghan appear. “Vernon, where’s your costume?” Jeonghan asks. 

Vernon just sighs. 

“I feel like I’ve seen you in that pirate outfit before,” Mingyu says to Joshua. 

“I wear this every year. It’s not like anyone remembers Halloween so why not wear the same thing?”

“But it doesn’t seem like the same costume to me,” Jeonghan says, hooking a finger over the neckline of Joshua’s billowing white shirt and peering down the gap. “This part gets lower and lower. Next year it’ll be to your belly button.”

Joshua pushes him away. “Next year will be a work night for me and I won’t be getting dressed up and trashed on Daniel’s Halloween Punch. By the way, if he offers you some, just say no.”

“Why? What’s in it?”

“It’s just vodka mixed with red and yellow food coloring.”

“Are you a car mechanic?” Chan asks Jeonghan. 

Jeonghan gapes at him, offense all over his face. “I’m a fighter pilot! Haven’t you seen Top Gun?”

Chan shakes his head.

“I blame myself for not raising you properly. You’ve seriously never seen it? It only features the best song ever written.”

Mingyu nods knowingly. “Danger Zone. Kenny Loggins.”

“No, dumbass. Take My Breath Away. Berlin.” 

A loud thud interrupts their conversation. “The phaaaaaaaantom of the opera is here!” Jun’s voice echoes from the foyer. He skulks into the living room a second later, half of his face obscured by a black cape, the other half by a plain white mask. “Inside your mind!”

“You’re going to break your ankle if you keep jumping off the stairs like that,” Jihoon scolds, appearing from behind Jun. His black sweatshirt and sweatpants with skeleton print looks like something from Gap Kids and Seungkwan resists the urge to coo because he doesn’t want to die. 

“Jihoon, is that you?” Joy shouts from the bathroom. “I’m almost done with Soonyoung’s beard! I’ll do your face next!”

“Does anyone remember what Soonyoung is going to be?” Joshua asks. 

“I think he said The Dude from The Big Lebowski. But, like, a more sensual version,” Jun replies. 

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Apparently it means a wig of dirty blond waves and sandy-colored facial hair, pajama pants in a vaguely tribal pattern, a tan and brown open-front sweater with black pattern accents, no shirt. 

“But why can’t you wear a shirt?” 

“Because it’s Halloween,” Soonyoung says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Mingyu, can I use some of that body glitter?”

Joy and Jihoon settle on the floor of the living room, white and black containers of face paint laid open. The others, even Soonyoung and Mingyu, watch in quiet awe as she transforms Jihoon into a pale, gaunt nightmare.

“I think I sort of understand why my sister loves watching makeup tutorials so much,” says Vernon. 

Joy smiles. “Thanks but I’m not even all that good.” She uses a brush to add contouring around Jihoon’s mouth and cheeks. “All done. What do you think?” She holds up a mirror she magically pulled from her bag. 

Jihoon studies his reflection for a second and smiles, which should look cute but it doesn’t. “Creepy. Thanks Joy.”

The front door opens and Seokmin calls, “Hey is anybody home? I brought Yuju!”

“Hi Yuju!” Seungkwan replies but it’s lost in the cacophony of greetings.

“Guess everyone is home. Wow, you all look great!” Seokmin points at Chan. “Dino. Cute, cute.

Jeonghan, sexy Airforce pilot. I’m getting real Iceman vibes.

Mingyu, very sexy Playboy bunny outfit. Body glitter is a nice touch.

Josh! Sexy pirate again?

Seungkwan, you sexy crayon.”

“Um, I’m just a regular crayon,” he says. 

“What are you talking about? Blue is the sexiest color!” Seokmin continues his survey of the living room occupants. “Soonyoung, sexy Dude from The Big Lebowski. Also a lot of body glitter, I see.

Joy, love the lumberjack beard. Looks like you grew it yourself. 

Jihoon, I can hardly recognize you! Very scary. And cute. 

Jun, seriously? Phantom of the Opera? That’s only my favorite sexy Gerard Butler film of all time!

And Vernon...don’t tell me...Eminem from 8 mile.”

“Yesss!” Vernon pumps a triumphant fist. “Thank you Seokmin! And you’re a weatherman?”

That’s Seungkwan’s assumption as well because what else could he be in a clear raincoat over a 2-piece suit.

Seokmin smiles, pretty and gentle, eyes curving softly. “I’m Patrick Bateman from American Psycho!” He gestures towards Yuju who is admiring Mingyu’s glittery abs. “And she’s my secretary, I mean Executive Assistant played by Chloe Sevigny in the film.”

Seungkwan has never seen the movie so he has no idea how true to character Yuju is dressed but he knows that she looks fabulous in her honey blond shoulder length wig with blunt bangs. He wonders if he’d be able to pull off the same color. Would she let him borrow the wig to bring to the salon as reference? 

“You definitely look more like the local weatherman than a yuppie with a compulsion for murder,” says Jeonghan. “It’s your adorable face. It can't be helped.”

“I’ve got some fake blood and an extra plastic axe you can borrow,” Joy suggests and Seungkwan wonders if there’s anything not in her bag. 

Seungcheol finally returns. He’s still wearing the Astros jersey but has changed into a pair of loose jeans. 

“Where have you been?” Jeonghan demands. “And why are you dressed like my friend Kenny’s dad?”

“Kenny’s dad must be a zaddy because Seungcheol looks very handsome,” says Seokmin, dark red liquid splashed across the front of his raincoat and face. 

“Thanks man,” Seungcheol says but his face looks glum. “My old baseball uniform pants are too small. Everyone could see my junk.”

“I’m sure it’s better than those sad jeans you currently have on.”

“It took forever to get my ass out of those pants just now. I’m not changing back.”

“Hey, I just got a text from Minghao,” says Jun. “He’s going to meet us at Daniel’s so we should get going soon."

Two hours and 87 beers later, they finally stumble out of the house towards the line of Ubers waiting on the street. 

“Wonwoo, watch the house while we’re gone!” Jeonghan, last to leave, calls toward the dark and empty living room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No additional warnings that aren't already in the tags.
> 
> Unrelated: someone needs to write more content inspired by GoSe Bad Clue. Not me, obviously since i can barely handle a simple college AU. But someone else should. Just saying.

Seungkwan goes to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water but ends up pouring another 5 oz. of Sunset Blush instead which is warm from the box sitting out on the counter. He skirts around Mingyu whose face is six inches away from the running microwave, taking 8 minutes off his life, according to his mother. He can see the plate of Pizza Rolls through the translucent door.

“How’s Wonwoo doing?” Mingyu asks.

“Fell asleep as soon as Seungcheol tucked him in,” says Seungkwan, opening the freezer. He twists the ice cube tray, popping out a few cubes, and drops them into the room temperature wine. “Hey, um, remember the first party you guys had this year? That night we played raspberry Smirnoff pong in the basement?”

Mingyu shudders. “I remember the aftermath.”

“Yeah...that was bad. But do you remember talking about Wonwoo?”

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu looks at him with a little frown. "Did we?"

“Yeah, we did. You…” Seungkwan isn’t sure why he pauses. “Said he was an asshole.”

“Did I? Well, he can come across as a prick sometimes because of his, ya know, face and demeanor, but he’s actually a good person, I promise.”

“Okay. Then why did he say he’s an asshole?”

“Huh?” Mingyu’s frown deepens before his lips suddenly lift into a wide smile. “Ah, I remember now!” he says. “We got into a fight earlier that day. He wouldn’t let me use his mom’s Amazon Prime account to buy shuriken throwing stars.”

Seungkwan’s fingers twitch, a reflection of his longing to strangle Mingyu. “That’s why you told me he’s an asshole.”

“Yeah. They were going to be an early birthday gift for Josh.”

Okay, he totally thought that sentence was going to end with ‘Minghao’ but Joshua makes twisted sense as well. He says to Mingyu, “I hope your Pizza Rolls burn the roof of your mouth.”

Mingyu stares at him, brow wrinkled. “Why would you say something so terrible?”

*

The first thing Seungkwan sees when they finally arrive at Daniel’s party is a Mario and a Luigi making out on the front stoop, hats and fake mustaches eskew.

Joshua steps around them and says, “Maybe I will have some Halloween punch after all.”

As far as parties go, it’s an absolute rager. Seungkwan feels overwhelmed by the pageantry of everyone’s costumes, the endless flow of alcohol and the cloud of cannabis smoke floating above their heads, the defeating music, the body heat. 

“You guys made it!” Daniel pushes his way towards them, squeezing between a unicorn and a Santa Claus. 

At first, Seungkwan thinks that Daniel is dressed as the gimp from Pulp Fiction: tight leather bodysuit, just missing the hood. Then he notices the cat ears on his head.

“Me-YOW!” Soonyoung screeches when he spots the party’s host. “Here, kitty kitty.”

Daniel cups Soonyoung’s face in his hands and slowly blinks. “That was a cat kiss,” he says and pulls away.

Soonyoung, flushed pink from six lite beers, plants a sloppy kiss on Daniel’s lips and declares, “That was a Soonyoung special.”

Chan shakes his head. “I need a drink,” he says to Seungkwan and Vernon.

Seungkwan is still feeling the vodka and grape sodas he had at the House earlier but accompanies the other two to the kitchen because Seungcheol looks two seconds away from ripping off Soonyoung’s beard.

Peter, a scarecrow, is manning the keg and nods at them when they approach him. “What”s up?” he says and pulls three red Solo cups from the stack, hay twirling to the floor. “You guys are Seungcheol’s kids, right?”

They look at one another and shrug. “Sure,” says Chan. “Just don’t say that in front of Jeonghan.”

Peter gives each of them a cup that’s one quarter beer, three quarters foam. “Happy Halloween.”

“Thank you,” they reply in unison like a kindergarten class and head back into the throng of partygoers.

Vernon gets pulled away by a girl dressed as the main character of Midsommer, a flirty hand on his shoulder. He shrugs apologetically at Chan and Seungkwan before disappearing behind a giant cardboard pizza.

Seungkwan loses Chan at some point - after his first sip of Halloween punch but before the flip cup tournament. He, Joshua, Jeonghan, and a girl from their intramural soccer team, Tara, win six or seven rounds before being knocked out by a bunch of lacrosse players.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Joshua says to Tara. “What is your costume?”

She shrugs. “I’ve been telling people I’m a chick from the 80’s but to be honest, I just threw on a bunch of stuff I found at the thrift store and then did my makeup without a mirror.”

The three Seniors begin talking about some gen. ed. science class they had together the previous year and Seungkwan tunes them out while trying to look interested. 

He’s starting to feel a bit peckish but has seen zero food or candy that isn’t drugs at this party. Maybe Joy has something in that magic bag of hers. 

“Wait a second,” Jeonghan says sharply and for a moment, Seungkwan thinks he is talking to him but no, Jeonghan’s still looking at Tara. “You think Daniel is hotter than me?”

“Hotter? Yes. Sexier? Definitely. Taller? Obviously,” she says.

Jeonghan’s brows furrow like she’s speaking a foreign language. 

“Dude, you can’t deny that he’s taller,” Joshua says, far too chipper about his friend’s distress. 

Tara leans towards Jeonghan with a smirk and whispers into his ear, a hand clad in fingerless gloves shielding her words.

The lines between Jeonghan’s brows smooth out and his expression turns serious. He nods along to whatever she’s saying.

“We have an agreement?” she asks, stepping back, one eyebrow cocked upward.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Her face relaxes into a loose smile. “Joshua, it was nice to catch up. Seungkwan, I’ll see you on Tuesday.” She walks away and a group dressed like the children from Stranger Things immediately converge into the space she left behind.

Jeonghan tosses back the rest of his drink and says to Joshua, “Don’t wait for me.” He scoots around season one Eleven and Dustin, presumably going after Tara. 

“Are they about to fuck?” Seungkwan asks. “Are Tuesdays and Thursdays going to be really awkward from now on?”

“Nah, Jeonghan won’t let it get awkward,” Joshua reassures him. “He’s good like that.” His shoulder abruptly pitches forward as someone bumps into him and he turns, probably to apologize but his default smile suddenly vanishes.

“Oh my god, Joshua!” The offender is Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, complete with a stuffed terrier in a woven basket. “I’m so sorry!”

She’s pretty, Seungkwan notices. Like really pretty. The kind of pretty that scoops up followers by the thousands on Instagram. 

“Sure,” Joshua says, voice flatter than beer that’s been sitting out overnight. 

Dorothy rests a hand on his bicep. “It’s nice to see you! Have you been working out?”

“No,” Joshua sighs and turns his head.

Seungkwan watches with wide eyes because Joshua is nice to everyone. Even the freshmans who throw up in the closet or drop drinks on the rug. It’s why he’s the unofficial House spokesman when the police come to give them a noise citation. 

Dorothy just drops her hand, unmoved by Joshua’s disinterest. She turns to Seungkwan. “Hi, I’m Mackenzie. Are you a friend of Joshua?”

“Uh, yes, I’m Seungkwan,” he says, trapped in place by the green bits of her hazel eyes. Her nose is slim and perfect and she is so, so pretty. “How do you know two know each other?”

Mackenzie smiles. “We met our freshman year at a party a lot like this one but we didn’t get to really know each other until we were juniors. Isn’t that right, Josh?”

He just gives her a look as if to say, _why are you still here?_

“Oh come on. What’s with the cold shoulder? Use your words if you want me to leave. If I remember correctly, you are actually quite skilled with your tongue.” Mackenzie flips an auburn braid over her shoulder. 

Seungkwan pretends like he’s not disturbed by the implication that Joshua has used his mouth for anything other than speaking or singing in choir. He blushes anyways. 

“Fuck off, Mackenzie,” Joshua says with nothing to soften his harsh words. No hint of a smile. Just cold fury.

“Woah, what the hell man?” Seungkwan interjects but Mackenzie just laughs.

Not a joyful, happy laugh but snide and ugly and for just a second, Mackenzie is not so beautiful.

“There he is. Well, I know when I’ve outstayed my welcome. It was nice to meet you Seungkwan. Maybe I’ll see you around.” She sends one last pointed look at Joshua before leaving.

“Shit.” Joshua hangs his head. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I usually don’t let her get to me but...” He growls in frustration.

“That’s okay,” Seungkwan says because he really doesn’t think any less or differently about him. “I’d probably be way less cool around my ex if I had one.”

Joshua snorts. “Wouldn’t exactly call her an ex because that would imply we were exclusive. It’s complicated.”

Rooney, Daniel’s third housemate pokes his head between Seungkwan and Joshua, and slings his arms across their shoulders. “Hey! We’re finishing off the last of the Halloween punch. You want in?”

“Yeah, actually I do,” says Joshua, perking up.

Seungkwan shakes his head. “I’m good but thanks for the offer.”

“More for me and Josh.” Rooney drops his arm off Seungkwan. “We’ll be in the kitchen if you change your mind.”

He won’t but he thanks him again anyways and hurries off. He talks to a few more people, runs into Minghao who is wearing a Grecian-style robe made out of a bedsheet and holding a headpiece covered in rubber snakes.

“Are you the guy who killed Medusa?” Seungkwan asks, the name of the mythical figure on the tip of his tongue, eluding him in his hunger and drunken state.

“Perseus?” Nah.” Minghao puts on the headpiece, allowing Seungkwan to realize just how elaborate it actually is. “I’m the Gorgon herself.”

“Minghao!” Jun shoulders his way over. His mask is pushed up, forcing his hair to stick up and all over. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Good thing you put on your snake hat or else I never would have found you. We’re up on the beer pong table.”

“Finally. Who are we playing?”

“Seungcheol and Jihoon.”

“Shit.” Minghao groans. “Well, at least we’ll lose quickly.”

Seungkwan considers watching but as much as he enjoys playing, doesn’t understand the appeal of being a beer pong bystander. It’s like watching a tennis match but with a higher likelihood of beer spilling all over your shoes. 

The gnawing in his stomach is beginning to give him a headache so he steps outside because if he gets smacked in the face one more time by someone’s wings or costumed appendage, he’s going to start swinging.

“You! Crayon! Seungkwan!”

He turns at his name. Seokmin is running towards him, a wild look in his eyes.

“You okay?” Seungkwan asks when he catches the faint scent of cigarette smoke, a sure sign that Seokmin is wasted. 

“Yeah, I’m good, it’s just that I need,” Seokmin exhales, “cheesy bread.”

“Oh.” Cheesy bread sounds pretty good, Seungkwan thinks. In fact, it sounds like the only thing he wants to eat for the rest of his life. “We should get some.”

“Yes,” Seokmin hisses and takes out his phone. “You call a ride back to the house and I will order us the biggest thing of cheesy bread ever.”

Seems like a fair trade. “Okay but should we get the others? What about Yuju?”

“No time! Yuju is with Barb and Jamie. She’ll be fine.”

Seungkwan sends off a quick text to Chan and Vernon, and calls an Uber. There’s a car, a black Nissan Altima, finishing a ride just down the street so they don’t have to wait very long. He makes sure the license plate matches what’s on his app and waits for the driver to butcher his name before getting in the car with Seokmin - he’s not trying to get them kidnapped. 

“Cheesy bread will arrive in 40 to 50 minutes,” Seokmin informs him. “Cheesy bread, oh cheesy bread.”

“Cheesy bread,” Seungkwan echoes, reverential. 

The driver glances at them via the rearview mirror. “College kids,” he mutters under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of Wonboo in this chapter. There will actually be some conflicts beyond Seungkwan's pining that I'm trying to lay the groundwork for. And will also deal with some serious topics which will be reflected in the tags as I update.
> 
> And yes, I named Daniel's housemates after his cats in this.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading. Comments and kudos always appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something super short to make up for the last few chapters. I think.

Seungkwan wakes up needing to pee and drink so much water at the same time. He reaches under the pillow for his phone but it’s dead when he goes to check the time. There’s a heavy arm curled around his waist, owner unknown.

Twisting to look over his shoulder, he sees Jeonghan’s angelic sleeping face. Seungkwan thinks he really looks most handsome like this: relaxed and absolutely silent. He’s careful not to wake up the weekend’s host when he slips out of bed. 

He keeps the lights off as he goes to the bathroom because he wants to be able to sleep a little bit longer and he’s not in the mood to deal with his morning face in the mirror. He heads back to bed afterwards but, disoriented from a lack of sleep and the unfamiliarity of the Yoon family cabin, ultimately finds himself at the top of the stairs. He decides that hydrating before another lay-down wouldn’t hurt since he’s up. 

He pads his way past the living room (Joy, on the couch and buried beneath a mountain of blankets, snuffles in her sleep) to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He stumbles his way in the dark over to one of the stools at the counter.

“Hey.”

Seungkwan screams - no, he doesn’t scream. He lets out a manly shout, clutching the water bottle to his chest. “Jesus, fuck, you scar - surprised me.”

He doesn’t see Wonwoo but there's no mistaking the deep timbre coming from the dark figure sitting at the dinette for anyone else.

“You’re up early,” Wonwoo says and a sound like crunching cereal follows.

“Oh, yeah, I’m a bit of an early bird.” 

Which is absolutely false and Seungkwan isn’t quite sure why he said it. 

But he doesn’t have time to regret the lie because Wonwoo pats the table in front of him and says, “Come join me.”

Seungkwan does his best not to trip on his way over to the small table. He gropes for the chair opposite Wonwoo and falls clumsily into the seat. After drinking half of the water bottle in one long swallow, he asks, “So. How much of last night do you remember?”

Wonwoo snorts. “Everything, unfortunately. But it’s not the most embarrassing behavior our loving friends have witnessed, considering the usual antics of Soonyoung and Jun. And Seungcheol. Occasionally Seokmin and Mingyu.”

 _Our loving friends_ , Seungkwan silently echoes, a strange warmth spreading in his chest. While Wonwoo has never explicitly made Seungkwan feel like an outsider, his ambivalence towards him in the early months, but not Vernon or Chan, has affected him more than he’s dare let on and this acknowledgement feels like a gentle hug of validation.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, after Seungcheol put you to bed, Jihoon let Barb and Jamie give him a lower back tattoo with a permanent marker. They told him it was a butterfly but it was actually a mirror image of two giant dicks. Chan tried to take a picture and that ended exactly how you think it did.”

Wonwoo’s laugh transforms into wet, harsh coughs. His spoon clatters into the bowl of cereal and he pounds a fist against his chest. Seungkwan, alarmed, pushes the bottle of water towards him and Wonwoo snatches it up. The coughing subsides as he gulps the water down, his mouth directly where Seungkwan’s had been. 

The warmth from earlier prickles and grows. Not because Wonwoo sounds like he’s choking to death - Seungkwan’s not a total jerk - but between his tenure as the dealer the night before and his current display of pulmonary fallibility, he’s relieved to finally see past the first impression he had of the other boy. In hindsight, what Seungkwan had seen as snobbery could just as easily have been shyness or anxiety.

Mingyu’s admittance that Wonwoo is not actually an asshole certainly helps. 

God, Seungkwan’s still annoyed at him about that.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo says once he’s gotten his breathing under control. “I’m sorry to have missed it.” He clears the last remaining crumbs of cereal from his throat. “Any word on ski plans?”

“Um.” Seungkwan racks his brain. “Yes. Me and Jeonghan and Seungcheol and Barb and Jamie, I think. We…” He looks at the time over the oven. 7:23 AM. “We plan on heading to the resort after breakfast. Anyone else who wants to join us will go after lunch.”

Wonwoo’s head bobs. “Cool. I’ll most likely head over for the afternoon.”

“Oh.” Seungkwan tries not too sound disappointed. “You’ll just hang around here until then?”

“I plan on taking a nap soon. It’s my fault for passing out first and not having a say in the sleeping arrangement but Seungcheol snores _so loud_ and I’ve been awake by myself for the last three hours.” 

There’s a groan and Seungkwan sees two dark limbs stretch in the shadows before curling back to their source. 

“We should make sure that Mingyu shares a room with Seungcheol,” Wonwoo continues. “He sleeps like the dead once he’s down for the night. Last year, some drunk freshman pulled the fire alarm at 4 AM in Hobell because anarchy, I guess. But at the time, nobody knew it was a false alarm so Seokmin called Jeonghan, crying uncontrollably because he thought Mingyu was trapped in a burning building. Turns out, he just slept through the entire thing.”

_We should..._

“I’m fine with that plan,” Seungkwan says. “Making sure that Mingyu sleeps with Seungcheol, I mean.” He pauses. “All I woke up to was Jeonghan’s arm over me so I can’t complain.”

Wonwoo snorts “Jeonghan was just testing the waters. If you don’t set firm boundaries, you’ll wake up tomorrow as his little spoon, unable to escape until he decides to let you go.”

“Thanks for the warning. Anyone else I should avoid?” he asks, a helpless smile spreading across his face. It’s the most he’s ever heard Wonwoo talk in a single conversation and while he mainly chalks it up to the poor guy being stuck in a room with a snoring Seungcheol for hours, Seungkwan isn’t ready for him to stop just yet. 

Wonwoo hums in thought. “Jihoon starts off on one side of the bed and then gradually moves towards the middle, arms and legs out like he’s a starfish. Seokmin likes to curl up against the wall but he is an uncompromising blanket hog. Sorry to Yuju but that’s her problem this weekend. And apparently Joy kicks people.”

“She kicks people,” Seungkwan repeats. “Isn’t she a black belt in Taekwondo?”

“Yep. Last time we were here, over the summer, she gave Soonyoung a giant bruise on the back of his thigh.” Wonwoo picks up the bowl and drains the milk with a loud slurp. He sets it down and asks, “What’s so funny?”

“Huh?”

“You’re smiling. Is Soonyoung’s pain that amusing? Actually, you’re right. It was pretty funny.”

It occurs to Seungkwan that if he can sort of see Wonwoo, then the other boy can definitely sort of see him as well, and he’s been smiling like an idiot. He rearranges his face into something more neutral. “No! I was just thinking…” fuck it “...that you’re not as scary as I thought you were.”

Wonwoo falls silent. His eyes narrow and lips press together, eerily reminiscent of the expression he wore when he saw Seungkwan outside the bathroom all those weeks back. The blue light of a winter morning enhances the chill of his glower.

It should be intimidating but Seungkwan realizes, with dread, that he finds it cute and sort of sexy and Wonwoo needs to stop, he needs to stop looking at him like that, S.O.S, oh shit balls - 

Seungkwan panics and extends an arm across the table, not quite sure what he’s trying to do. His hand reaches Wonwoo’s face and his fingers pinch down on the skin they find there.

Wonwoo yelps and springs back, a hand coming up to cradle his cheek. “Ow, Seungkwan,” he whines in a voice that’s closer in pitch to Jeonghan’s than his own. “That really hurt.”

The kitchen lights flicker on and they both look over in the direction of the light switch panel. 

“Why are you two being so loud?” Joy groans. She has the comforter draped over her head and clamped beneath her chin, making her look like one of those nesting dolls. Or a nun.

“Seungkwan pinched my cheek,” Wonwoo tells her with mock outrage.

“Aw, babe, that’s ‘cause you’re adorable.” Joy yawns and turns around. “Keep it down, will you? Some of us are still drunk.” She walks out of the kitchen, trailing a corner of the comforter behind her. 

The lights are still on and they stare at each from across the dinette table. 

“Apologize,” Wonwoo finally says, driving a pointer finger into the wooden surface. “Apologize right now.”

His words are demanding but there’s nothing harsh or scary about his tone. Seungkwan stands and says, “No, I don’t think I will. She’s right: you’re pretty adorable.”

He doesn’t know where he finds the courage not to run out of the kitchen immediately, instead sauntering off without looking back for Wonwoo’s reaction. Unfortunately it only takes him as far as the bottom of the stairs when his words sink in and he practically sprints back to his room with Jeonghan. 

Jeonghan rouses as Seungkwan dives under the blanket and kicks his legs in embarrassment. “Where were you?” he asks.

“Bathroom,” Seungkwan answers into the pillow.

“Hmm.” Jeonghan shifts and drapes an arm across Seungkwan. They’re not quite spooning but close. “Five more minutes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that everyone has been doing well considering the events of the last week and a half - if you're an American anyways.
> 
> Or if you're not! Be well and stay safe.


	8. Chapter 8

“Can I ask you guys a completely hypothetical question?” Seokmin says to Jihoon and Seungkwan, as if they’re not trapped together on a stalled ski lift and would be able to prevent him from asking otherwise. 

Well, Seungkwan supposes that Jihoon could decide to push him off the seat, plunging him 50 feet to the packed snow beneath them. But it seems unlikely since everyone has a soft spot for Yuju and she would be sad if Seokmin died. 

“Sure.” Jihoon pushes his goggles up his forehead. “What’s on your hypothetical mind?”

Seokmin sighs. “Say that you have this friend you’ve been hooking up with on a semi-regular basis for a year and their birthday was a few months ago. And pretend that you weren’t sure what to get them so one of your friends whose name rhymes with Sming-gyu suggested you just ask them what they want.”

“Mmmhmm,” Jihoon intones to imply that he’s still listening but also disagrees with this Sming-gyu. 

“And, in a moment of weakness, you did as Sming-gyu recommended and asked. And they said, partly in jest but a lot seriously, that they wanted a threesome. Which sounds very cool until they clarify that they want the third person to be another guy and they’re fine with whoever you pick.”

Seungkwan wishes that Seokmin wasn’t between him and Jihoon so they could coordinate how to react without drawing obvious attention. Do they play along? Ignore him? Let him know that he’s not fooling anyone and wow, if Yuju ever found out about this, she might just kill him?

“So let me make sure I understand,” Jihoon says after an awkward pause. “You asked Yuju - ”

“No, no, no,” Seokmin interrupts. “This is a purely intellectual exercise.”

The sky has turned a dusty violet in the minute it took Seokmin to lay out his thought experiment. Seungkwan hopes that whatever is wrong with the lift, the resort fixes it soon because Jihoon looks like he’s considering raising the safety bar and hurling himself down to get away from this conversation.

“In this hypothetical situation,” Seungkwan steps in to save Jihoon’s life, “am I opposed sexually or politically or otherwise to hooking up with men?”

Seokmin looks thoughtful. “Politically, no. Sexually, you’re not inclined that way but who knows?”

“Seokmin, you - I mean - nobody should do anything they’re uncomfortable with even as a birthday gift,” Jihoon says, ever the voice of reason.

“Not uncomfortable,” Seokmin replies quickly. “Definitely unexpected. A little intrigued but it has to be the right person, you know?” He taps his poles against the side of his skis. “Would you prefer to do it with a friend or someone you found on Tinder or like, Craigslist?”

“Definitely not a random stranger you’ve never met before,” Jihoon replies a tad sharply. “And definitely not Sming-gyu.” 

“No, definitely not him.” Seokmin shakes his head. “He’s way too handsome and you might feel self-conscious. Same reason you wouldn’t ask Jun. And not Soonyoung either because even though you trust him, he’s too sexy.”

Seungkwan has never once considered Soonyoung to be sexy but this isn’t actually his hypothetical so he doesn’t say as much. 

“Maybe Minghao but he can be so awkward about stuff like this sometimes,” Seokmin continues, his gaze fixed towards the hilltop they’re so very far from. “Same with Joshua.”

Seungkwan mentally goes through everyone Seokmin has mentioned. If they’re sticking to housemates, there’s not many options left. “What about Jeonghan?” he blurts. “Jeonghan’s good at not making things weird.” He doesn’t quite remember how he knows that but is certain it’s the truth.

“Huh,” Jihoon says. “That’s actually not the worst idea - he might even agree to it. He’s a pretty considerate person so I assume he’s the same way during sex.” He shudders. “Wow, I cannot believe those words just came out of my mouth.”

“Huh,” Seokmin parrots. “A very convincing point.”

The lift cable jolts to life and they begin moving forward. 

“Finally! Thank fucking god!” Jihoon shouts echo across the white hills.

  
  
  
  
  


Back at the Yoon family cabin, cocktail hour consists of beer, more boxed wine, and leftover pizza rolls. 

“Should we cook dinner? We probably need more sustenance if we want to survive the night,” Jihoon says, gesturing towards the baking tray on the nice coffee table that has been devoid of pizza rolls for almost an hour.

“We bought stuff for fajitas at the grocery store yesterday. I suppose I should start on that,” Jeonghan says and lifts himself off the couch. 

“No, no, no.” Mingyu hastily pushes him back down. “You stay out of the goddamn kitchen. We don’t need another repeat of spaghetti night.”

“How _does_ one ruin spaghetti?” Chan asks with a smug grin. 

“Be quiet, Channie. Seungkwan told me how you managed to burn soup and set off the Hobell smoke detectors,” Jeonghan retorts. 

Seungkwan ignores Chan’s look of betrayal. 

“I’ll help,” Wonwoo volunteers. 

Mingyu laughs. “Good one, Wonwoo.” He shakes his head, still chuckling to himself. “Seokmin, Jihoon, let’s go.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Wonwoo asks, watching Mingyu and his selected sous chefs file into the kitchen. Yuju and Jamie follow them to help slash heckle. “The fuck?”

“It’s okay, Wonwoo,” says Jeonghan. “Guys that look like us don’t need to know how to cook.”

Chan makes a face like he’s swallowing back vomit. He’s shuffling the same deck of Christmas Cola cards from the previous night. “Anyone down to play a game?”

“Eh,” Wonwoo says, glaring at the cards as if they personally offended him. 

“Don’t worry. There will be no gangbanging or whatever you did yesterday.” Jeonghan reaches across the coffee table and snatches the cards from Chan. “Easiest game to play with this many people is Waterfall.” 

“What’s that?” Seungkwan asks, intrigued.

“It’s just another name for King’s Cup,” Joy clarifies to his disappointment. 

Jeonghan clears the empty baking tray and fans out the cards, facedown, in a circle. “Cheol, are you done with your drink? Put your cup in the middle.”

They spend the first several minutes refilling their drinks and arguing over rules to the corresponding cards. 

“Four is touch the floor, five is guys, six is chicks - er - I mean, women,” Seungcheol insists.

“I thought the numbers were how many drinks you assign to other players,” says Barb. “At least, that’s how we played it at my high school.”

“Ooooh, yeah,” Chan hisses. “That requires math which is not one of my strengths.” 

They eventually agree on a set of rules, mostly dictated by Jeonghan (Seungcheol wins his case for fours equal floor, sevens equal heaven) and Joy dutifully scribes in her Notes app.

Jeonghan picks the queen of hearts for his first turn. “Channie,” he says. “How much do you love me?”

“Ugh,” Chan replies and takes a deep chug of his beer. Seungcheol and Wonwoo cackle at the look on Jeonghan’s face. 

They move clockwise and for his first card, Seungkwan picks up the eight of clubs. 

“Pick a date,” Joy instructs. 

Seungkwan glances around the circle of players with forced nonchalance and tries not to linger on Wonwoo who is nestled between Seungcheol and Jeonghan on the couch, smirking at whatever the latter is whispering into his ear, resembling an evil kitty cat.

It speaks to Seungkwan’s degraded senses that he can’t actually look away, wondering if Jeonghan has somehow seen right through him (because if anyone has, it’s the perceptive devil incarnate Yoon) and is telling Wonwoo all about his teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy, incredibly pathetic crush.

  
  
(It’s the one he’d been trying to deny for the last few weeks and had come to accept this morning while cutting through an intermediate trail. The fresh air and beautiful scenery had lent a sense of optimism to his impossible crush; a certainty that he could enjoy the fluttering in his stomach whenever the other boy looked his way and then eventually get over it, same way he had regarding his baby infatuation with Seungcheol the first few weeks of the semester.) 

  
  
Jeonghan turns away from Wonwoo and catches him staring in their direction. “Seungkwan,” he says, delighted. “Are you asking me out?”

 _‘The nerve of him,’_ Seungkwan baselessly thinks but he recognizes an opportunity when he sees one. He dramatically drops to one knee, pushes his drink forward and asks, “Wonwoo, would you do me the honor of being my date for this game of Waterfall?” 

Wonwoo’s eyebrows lift in surprise even as he says, “yeah, sure.” He laughs softly at the noise of indignation Jeonghan makes. “Better luck next time,” he tells their host and knocks his cup against Seungkwan’s. 

“Ungrateful children,” Jeonghan grumbles. He swirls what appears to be a wine glass of water but is probably vodka.

They continue to play and play, the King’s cup in the middle filling with a variety of mixers and liquors. 

For her third turn, Barb pulls the five of diamonds and looks thoughtful. “Never have I ever…” she trails off.

It’s uncharitable to assume that Barb’s done everything which is why she’s taking so long. Seungkwan knows this but can’t stop the thought from popping into his mind and then immediately feels awful because she actually seems pretty cool. 

“Never have I ever,” she picks up again, “been punched in the face.”

Jeonghan gives Seungkwan a pointed look when he doesn’t drink. “Really?”

Seungkwan flips him off.

Wonwoo quietly turns his head and takes a sip from his cup, grimacing.

Chan notices. “Wonwoo, was that because you’re thirsty or because you’ve been punched in the face before?” he asks.

Wonwoo shrugs. “Can’t it be both?”

“Is it?” Chan persists, oblivious to the pinched expressions on Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s face. “What happened?”

“He was being an idiot, is what happened,” Seungcheol mutters not as quietly as he assumed. 

“YOU punched him?”

“The fuck you take me for?” Seungcheol snaps.

Wonwoo says, “it wasn’t anyone we know.”

“Were you okay?” Barb asks, sounding genuinely concerned. 

“I was fine.” Wonwoo huffs in frustration. He continues once he realizes they weren’t going to move past this without an explanation. “It was last spring semester. We had this huge party before everyone went off on spring break and I forgot to lock the doors before going to bed.”

“Wait.” Joy’s forehead wrinkles like she’s trying to piece together disparate fragments of gossip. “Is this when someone broke into your house?”

“Yes, and instead of staying in his room and calling the police, _someone_ decided to confront the thieves.” Jeonghan tips his wine glass and takes a large gulp. “Idiot.”

“Hey, at least we got to keep our TV,” Wonwoo says and momentarily shrivels under the glares Jeonghan and Seungcheol shoot towards him. “It was _fine_ ,” he insists with an edge of defiance. “It was my fault anyways. And we were finally able to convince the landlord to install a security system because of what happened so I guess it was worth it.”

Jeonghan and Seungcheol begin shouting at the exact same moment and so vehemently that even Joy makes a noise of shock.

“You’re lucky a punch in the face was all you got! They could have decided to beat the shit out of you - ”

“That is NOT cute, Wonwoo. Don’t even joke about something like that! Do you - ”

“-or straight up kill you! You were reckless, even by my standards. Yes -”

“-think you’re worth less to us than a TV? I’d rather buy a new -” 

Wonwoo pulls his legs up-onto the couch and curls inward, trying to create some distance between himself and the yelling on either side. His lips are pressed in a thin line and he looks appropriately contrite. Seungkwan resists telling Jeonghan and Seungcheol that they’ve made their point, not wanting to attract their ire instead. 

“-I said it! You were reckless!”

“-TV every month!” 

There’s a few seconds of awkward silence, King’s Cup completely forgotten. Finally, Wonwoo raises his arms and pats Jeonghan and Seungcheol on their respective shoulders. “Did you get that out of your system? Feel better?”

“Fuck,” Chan breathes. “Sorry for prying.”

Jeonghan turns his head like he hasn’t just had a drunken outburst during what’s supposed to be a weekend of fun winter activities.

“Yes,” Seungcheol sulks. “I wanted to say something when it first happened but you looked so pitiful with a black eye.”

“Well, Soonyoung had no such qualms and told me exactly what he thought of my actions.” Wonwoo’s fingers trawl under the right lens of his glasses and rubs at the skin under his eye, soothing a phantom pain. 

“Hey everyone!” Seokmin bounces into the living room in a blue ruffled apron, oblivious to the atmosphere. “Dinner is ready.” He takes a deep bow and extends one arm in the direction of the kitchen.

And just like that, it’s as if Barb’s turn never happened. Joy declares her intent to eat all the fajitas. Seungcheol and Wonwoo push and pull at one another, trying to beat the other in a race to the kitchen.

Jeonghan throws an arm around Seungkwan’s shoulder. “Are you hungry?”

He nods, taking his place in line behind Chan. 

“You’re being awfully quiet.” Jeonghan leans toward him, lowering his voice. He reeks of vodka. “Listen, sorry about earlier with Wonwoo.”

Seungkwan nearly drops the plate he just picked up. “What?”

“He acts like he didn’t put himself in any real danger which is frustrating.”

Oh, he’s not talking about when Seungkwan picked Wonwoo as his date. Of course he isn’t, why would he be? 

“Anyways, don’t let this deter you from moving in next year,” Jeonghan continues. “It’s actually a pretty safe neighborhood and like Wonwoo mentioned, we now have a -”

“Wait, wait,” Seungkwan interrupts, wondering if he’s misunderstood now that he’s trying to serve himself food. “What are you talking about?”

“Statistically speaking, our four block radius is on the low end of violent-”

“No, I meant the part about moving in.” 

“Oh that. Well, yeah.” Jeonghan piles way too much filling on his plate for the number of tortillas he’s grabbed. “Only if you want to. Don’t worry about it if you’d rather get your own place or stick with your current roommate.”

Seungkwan thinks of Eric and his absence of redeeming qualities and shudders. “Definitely not living with my current roommate any longer than I have to.” 

“Think about it then.” They take their plates (and for Jeonghan, a refill on his vodka) to the living room and sit on the loveseat, carefully balancing plates on knees. “Me, Cheol, and Josh are graduating after next semester. I figure you and Chan and Vernon could take our rooms.”

Seungkwan looks over at Seokmin and Mingyu who are feeding each other, much to the amusement of Yuju and Chan. Seungcheol tries to do the same with Jihoon but gets the sharp jab of a fork into his hand for the effort. Wonwoo laughs at Seungcheol’s exaggerated cry of pain. 

“What do the others think?” Seungkwan asks, not wanting to get his hopes up. “Shouldn’t they be the ones to choose who they live with?”

Jeonghan pauses the wine glass halfway to his mouth. “Of course but Seungkwan, trust me, there’s nobody else they’d rather ask.”

It scares Seungkwan how much he wants the arrangement for next year to work out now that he realizes its a possibility. Aside from the fact that he doesn’t have any close friends outside of Chan, Vernon, and the House, he thinks of all the things he’d miss out on if it didn’t: chili cook-offs and Halloween Bingo and movie nights and pregaming before parties.

Sure, he could probably still be a part of all that if he didn’t live there but he’d just be a guest; it wouldn’t be his.

And Seungkwan wants it all, even the less pleasant parts of being an official housemate - constantly having to cough up money to pay for noise citations from the cops, the way the floors are never 100 percent clean no matter how many times Mingyu mops, the possible odd bat or two in the attic. 

There’s just one itsy-bitsy, teensy-weensy, incredibly pathetic thing he needs to take care of before the next fall semester rolls around.

 _It shouldn’t be too hard_ , he thinks as he watches Wonwoo’s glasses slide right off his nose and onto his plate. 

Wonwo picks his glasses out of the heap of steak and onions and bell pepper, not even checking to see if anyone witnessed the mishap. He uses the bottom of Mingyu’s t-shirt to clean the grease off the lenses - the big oaf doesn’t even notice it happening.

Not until after Wonwoo puts his glasses back on does he glance around and Seungkwan nods after they inevitably make eye contact to indicate that yup, he saw. 

Wonwoo, for his part, doesn’t seem terribly embarrassed. He just shrugs and sends him a wink before turning to ask Jihoon a question.

 _Fuck_ , Seungkwan thinks, heart leaping into his throat. _No, I’ll get over it. I will._

He must. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope everyone is well.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are going back in tiiiiiiime. 
> 
> This begins the day after the party where Mingyu told Seungkwan that Wonwoo was an asshole - for no good reason - and is part one of two.
> 
> Part two is not ready but I'm trying to update at least once a month-ish so here's what I have. 
> 
> Technically it's kinda Wonboo or Wonboo adjacent but since this takes place early on, iz real light.

****Sunday****

In the evening, the weather takes a sudden turn for the worse and neither Seungkwan or Vernon feel like making the trek to the cafeteria in the rain and wind. They set up in Vernon and Chan’s room with a pile of snacks from the vending machine and fall down a hole of cute animal clips instead of studying.

“Did you have any pets growing up?” Seungkwan asks. He tips a bag of Dorito Cool Ranch crumbs into his mouth and hopes Vernon doesn’t notice a few land on his bed. 

“Sure.” Vernon tosses the last Skittle into the air and tries to catch it in his mouth. It bounces off his front teeth and falls somewhere between the mattress and wall. He doesn’t bother to retrieve it. “In elementary school we had hamsters and a cockatiel. And my little sister got an iguana for her birthday a few years back.”

“You have a sister?” Seungkwan realizes how very little he knows about Vernon although he thinks they’ve grown closer over this weekend without Chan. 

“Yea.” Vernon glances at him sideways. “You know, Seungkwan, I think you’re a great dude and all but I’m just going to tell you right now that it will never, ever happen. Over my dead body.”

It takes Seungkwan a moment to catch his meaning. “What? No!” He laughs. “Trust me. You don’t have to worry about me showing any interest in your sister. Although I can’t guarantee she won’t fall for me first,” he teases. 

Vernon groans. “Shut up, man. That’s what I’m worried about! She’s always getting crushes on my friends and it's freaking exhausting!”

Seungkwan can’t relate - he’s never really brought any male friends around the house but suspects that his sisters would tolerate them only a little better than they do him. “If you keep this up, you’ll scare away any potential suitors and she’ll never get married.”

“Perfect.”

Seungkwan smiles, finding Vernon’s protective streak cute if a little old-fashioned. “Okay, let’s say that you absolutely had to set up your little sister with one of your friends. Otherwise she won’t be able to claim her half of the inheritance.”

“Why would that happen? You watch too many Korean dramas.” He opens a bag of Welch’s fruit snacks. 

“Whatever. Just play along. Wouldn’t you rather she end up with someone you know than some random dude who just wants your family’s money?”

Vernon shrugs. “I guess.” He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “I mean, if I had to choose someone, it’d definitely be my friend Louis.”

“You’re not very good at playing. Pick someone we both know,” Seungkwan says, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, is that the rule?” Vernon pops a strawberry into his mouth. He’s quiet for a while, taking this way too seriously. “Someone we both know...Wonwoo?”

“What? Really?” Seungkwan doesn’t mean to sound so sharply incredulous but there it is. “I mean...huh, interesting choice.”

“He’s a little quiet, I suppose, but smart and handsome. She could do a lot worse.” 

Okay, he may have a point but there are more important things to a man than looks and intelligence. Like remembering other people’s names. 

Seungkwan doesn’t tell Vernon what happened earlier that day or what Mingyu said about Wonwoo at the party. It doesn’t seem conducive to their current vibe and besides, Vernon will probably figure it out for himself eventually.

Also, is Wonwoo actually smart or does he just look good in glasses? Wait. Does Seungkwan think he looks good? No, he looks like a fucking nerd. 

A key scrapes the lock. Chan enters the room a moment later, water dripping from his bangs. “Hey!” he greets, duffel bag swinging from his arm. “I thought you guys would be at dinner. Why aren’t you at the caf?”

“Didn’t want to end up like that,” Seungkwan explains, spinning a finger in the direction of Chan’s drenched baby otter visage. “How was going back home? Was your grandma surprised to see you?” 

“It was nice. Grandma said my visit was the best birthday gift ever.” Chan unzips his bag and pulls out a familiar red and black packet. “Do you guys want ramyun?” 

“Fuck yes!”

Both Seungkwan and Vernon leap out of bed so quickly that an open bag of trail mix splats on the floor and sends its contents rolling in twenty different directions. They spend the next ten minutes on their hands and knees, reaching for nuts and candy-coated chocolate pieces under the beds and desks while Chan heads to the building’s communal kitchen. 

“You know,” Vernon says, voice muffled against the floor because he’s looking for a cashew that Chan swears skittered beneath his dresser, “if something happens to Wonwoo, you’re my second choice.”

“That’s sweet, Vern,” Seungkwan grits, holding up the aforementioned dresser. “Do you see the cashew?”

“I think so...nope, just a dust bunny.”

****Monday****

Seungkwan doesn’t think too much of it when someone takes the free spot across from him in the library’s quiet room. Mondays are always more crowded than other days of the week, crammed full of students who’ve neglected to pace their work over the weekend and table space is in high demand.

He glances up after a few seconds, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity, and doesn’t expect to recognize the person settling down. “Oh!” He slaps a hand over his mouth and the resounding smack draws more attention than the noise he’d tried to hide - at least twelve heads turn in his direction, three of them very unhappily.

Wonwoo pauses from rifling through his backpack. He doesn’t say anything, just shoots a confused look at Seungkwan before slowly sliding a book off the table and returning it to his bag. 

Shit, the other students are glaring at him like he’s some asshole table hog and he’s not about to lose face to Wonwoo of all people. He quickly waves his hands, motioning for Wonwoo to stop, and points at the empty chair. 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. _Are you sure?_

Seungkwan nods, adding a small smile for good measure. 

He cocks his head like he doesn’t believe him but begins unpacking his things anyways: a stack of books, a laptop and charger and wireless mouse, a worn-out yellow legal pad, headphones, a tiny square of microfiber cloth, a silver S’well water bottle, five blue pens, and one pink highlighter.

Seungkwan half expects Wonwoo to pull out a pillow or sleeping bag next, maybe crawl under the table and build a nest. But the other student just takes his seat and opens his laptop. 

Wonwoo doesn’t stop typing or reading or scratching one of his blue pens across the legal pad for almost an hour. Seungkwan, conversely, can barely get through a page of his history textbook before his hand creeps over to his phone for a distraction. 

_Surely he recognizes me and that’s why he picked this table rather than one occupied by a complete stranger_ , Seungkwan tells himself while twisted in his chair and watching Wonwoo from the corner of his eye, pretending to scroll through new posts on his Instagram feed. His thumb accidentally presses on the heart below a selfie of his third grade crush when Wonwoo suddenly stands, back arched and arms stretched out to the side.

Wonwoo makes a quiet, low hum of satisfaction and puts his hands in his pocket before walking away. Seungkwan’s eyes shift from left to right to left because dude just abandoned all his stuff, including his laptop and books, for some unscrupulous person to come by and grab. 

Seungkwan could be that unscrupulous person for fuck-all they know about each other.

Ten minutes pass and Wonwoo still hasn’t returned. 15 minutes pass. Then 19 minutes. At around the 24 minute mark, Seungkwan starts to feel annoyed because he gives Vernon and Chan way too much shit about their habitual tardiness so he needs to leave, like, now if he’s going to make it to the cafeteria in time for dinner. 

He considers texting Jeonghan for Wonwoo’s number when he sees the corner of a black Otterbox case peeking out from under the legal pad so there goes that plan. For a fleeting moment, Seungkwan worries: is Wonwoo trapped in an elevator? Locked in the basement archives? Out of toilet paper like JYP in the Wonder Girls’ Nobody music video?

26 minutes after he sauntered off with no warning, Wonwoo finally returns with a cookie clasped between his teeth. He doesn’t so much as glance at Seungkwan, just drops into his chair and resumes studying. 

Seungkwan packs up his things, barely holding back a scoff of indignation. If he heads straight to the cafeteria at a light jog, he may be able to beat Chan and Vernon there. He slips his arms through the straps of his bag and pivot’s his gaze to glare at Wonwoo before he leaves.

He’s not expecting the other to be looking in his direction and there’s no time to hide the annoyance he feels. He gives a curt nod in response to the blank expression on Wonwoo’s face. 

Not a little unsettled, Seungkwan hustles out of the library. 

  
  


****Tuesday****

“How are Mingyu and Seungcheol doing?” Seungkwan asks. He crosses his right leg over his left and bends forward to stretch his hamstrings.

“Poor babies spent the entire morning throwing up. Mingyu managed to keep some soup down in the afternoon but Seungcheol is still afraid to eat anything,” says Jeonghan.

Seungkwan makes a noise of commiseration. He hates being sick, especially on beautiful autumn afternoons perfect for intramural sports. Maybe he’ll drop off some vitamins for them later - from a safe distance, of course. 

“The rest of us have been using the first floor bathroom,” Joshua chimes in, “to prevent further spread of whatever they have.”

“That’s a good idea.” Seungkwan uncrosses his legs and straightens with a groan. “By the way, thanks for filling in today.”

“Happy to help. Though...don’t you need one more person?” Joshua turns to Jeonghan. “Who else did you manage to wrangle?”

Instead of giving a straight answer, Jeonghan laughs. “Oh my god,” he says, staring in the direction of the biology building. “He actually came.”

It’s Wonwoo, weaving through clusters of students and looking particularly malapropos in his jeans and Birkenstock sandals. Joshua waves his arms and jumps to catch his attention. 

“Ummmm,” Seungkwan begins because he has a few questions such as why the fuck is he dressed like that and was there really nobody else available? But Jeonghan shushes him before he can voice his concerns.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to play,” he promises. “Wonwoo! Hey! Thanks so much for stopping by!”

“Sure.” Wonwoo pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to Jeonghan. “Here’s your Fitbit.”

“Ah, you’re a lifesaver. I knew I had left it somewhere in the kitchen.” He buckles the black strap around his wrist and says, “I can guess we can get started now. Ref!” Jeonghan shouts over his shoulder towards a student volunteer who is not actually a referee. “Ref, we’re all here!”

“Wait, what?” Wonwoo takes a step backwards, eyes widening. “No, no, no. I am not playing.”

“Oh, come on. If you don’t, we won’t have enough players and we’ll have to forfeit the match.” Jeonghan’s hand reaches for Wonwoo which he easily dodges by twisting away.

It’s a fake, of course. Wonwoo doesn’t notice Joshua creeping up and gets grabbed from behind. “Hey! Put me down! Josh!”

“You don’t even have to really play. Just stand in the corner and be counted,” says Jeonghan.

“You tricked me,” Wonwoo snarls at him. “You left your Fitbit in the kitchen on purpose. You evil - ah!” He had kicked his legs, trying to shake off Joshua’s hold, and the sudden shift in equilibrium sends them falling to the ground.

In a remarkable display of strength (or stubbornness), Joshua manages to keep his arms wrapped Wonwoo even as they crash. Jeonghan drops to his knees and joins the fray, yelling something about brotherhood and sacrifice. Seungkwan can’t see what he’s doing from this angle but the way Jeonghan’s arms are moving seems...

“Anyone else kind of aroused?” Tara asks. “No? Just me then.” She doesn’t bother to stop the scuffle and the other members of their team similarly don’t interfere, patiently waiting for the situation to diffuse naturally. 

The expressions of the opposing team and student volunteer, however, range from mildly concerned to horrified. 

A part of Seungkwan feels bad for Wonwoo who is absolutely raging against Jeonghan and Joshua. He’s punted his expensive sandals a few feet away and is digging his heels into the grass. “Seriously, I need to move my car! I’m going to get a ticket.”

“I’ll move it for you. I’m an excellent driver. Stop squirming and tell me which pocket has your keys or I’m going to stick my hand in all of them,” Jeonghan threatens.

Wonwoo escapes the exact moment that Seungkwan thinks they’ve officially gotten out of hand. He leaps up, grabs his Birkenstocks, and sprints back the way he came. Two blinks and he’s out of sight. 

“Woah,” Seungkwan murmurs, impressed despite himself. 

“So, um, are you guys forfeiting?” the student volunteer asks timidly.

“Nah, that guy was just dropping off my watch,” Jeonghan informs her. “Sorry for the confusion. Our sixth player is almost here. Oh! There he is!”

Seokmin jogs towards them with a bright smile, waving enthusiastically. He’s wearing gym shoes and cleats. “Sorry I’m late. Hey, did you guys see Wonwoo running for his life just now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos always appreciated even if I don't reply because I'm painfully shy like that. 
> 
> I think I read or saw or possibly imagined that if Vernon was a girl and had to date a member, it'd be Wonwoo.
> 
> Hope everyone is taking care of themselves because of how, ya know, the world is.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II: Wednesday - Friday

****Wednesday****

Seungkwan is glad to see Joy behind the counter at the student center cafe because he knows what he wants but not what it’s called. “Chan had it yesterday,” he tells her while scanning the menu board. “I think it was a latte of some sort, really sweet, lots of whipped cream. It wasn’t chocolate but it wasn’t vanilla either. And there was a hint of nutmeg…” He trails off hopefully. 

“I think I know what you’re talking about,” Joy says, tapping on the cash register screen. “White Teddy Bear Mocha Latte. What size?”

“Biggest one you can legally sell.”

“Got it!” She rings him up, swipes his debit card, and hands him a receipt which he signs with a flourish.

He slips a few dollars into the tip jar and steps aside for the next customer, opening Bubble Shooter on his phone. 

“Hey Joy,” someone says in a low, vaguely familiar voice. 

Seungkwan’s head snaps up. ‘ _No fucking way_ ,’ he thinks as he eyes Wonwoo warily and moves towards the pick-up counter. He deliberately avoids eavesdropping on their conversation, not wanting to spend a single brain cell on someone so standoffish and historically has shown no interest in engaging with him.

Joy, oblivious to Seungkwan’s intention, calls over the top of the espresso machine, “you two know each other, right?”

Clearly, she’s talking to him and Wonwoo since they’re currently the only customers. There’s no seating (cafe is a misnomer since it’s little more than a counter that sells fancy drinks) and even standing at practically opposite ends of the space, they can’t miss each other.

“Yeah, sure,” Wonwoo replies and Seungkwan listens for any reluctance in his tone but hears none. “How’s it going?”

It takes a moment to realize the question is for him. “Fine,” he says, keeping his tone neutral. “How about you?”

“Pretty good,” replies Wonwoo with a quick nod. “So I heard your team won yesterday.”

Team? Oh, the soccer match. “We did,” Seungkwan confirms. And because Wonwoo’s still looking at him, he puts his phone away and adds “wouldn’t have thought it possible without Seungcheol and Mingyu but we did pretty well with Seokmin and Joshua.”

“Yeah, they seemed to have mixed feelings about that. Seungcheol is determined to play tomorrow no matter what.” Wonwoo laughs softly at his friend’s stubbornness.

Seungkwan is having a little trouble reconciling this shy-but-sort-of-friendly Wonwoo with the previous five iterations he’s encountered: mysterious-tenth-housemate Wonwoo, scrunchy-nose-laugh-party Wonwoo, forgot-Seungkwan’s-name Wonwoo, left-all-his-shit-without-a-word Wonwoo, soccer-no-thank-you Wonwoo.

Maybe...they’re not the same person but identical siblings living a single identity - like that movie! Seungkwan had watched it recently with Chan and Seungcheol but can’t think of the title. The movie was _okay_ , a bit disappointing compared to the intriguing premise. 

(The most memorable moment of the night had been when Seungcheol gripped Seungkwan’s arm during an action scene and instead of the usual flutter in his stomach, there had just been some indigestion from too much beer. It signaled, much to Seungkwan’s great relief, the end of his crush and being tormented by Seungcheol’s beautiful eyelashes.)

Now he’s thinking of tomorrow’s game: “any chance you’d want to sub in for Mingyu? From what I saw yesterday, you’re a fast runner.” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes but there’s a hint of a smile. “Living with Jeonghan and Joshua really hones your flight-or-fight response and you have to evolve in kind. Those two are a menace together.”

“Who’s a menace together?” Joy interrupts with a to-go coffee cup in each hand. One cup is tan and the other red: the official school colors. “Soonyoung and Seokmin? Jihoon and Mingyu? Jun and Minghao?” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Wonwoo replies, “although this time we’re talking about Jeonghan and Joshua.”

Joy frowns. “Really? But Josh seems so sweet.”

Wonwoo and Seungkwan exchange glances, daring the other to speak up.

“He is,” Seungkwan finally says because it’s true. Joshua Hong is a genuinely nice guy. He’s also a spawn of Satan; living proof that good and evil aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive.

“The sweetest,” Wonwoo assures a relieved Joy.

“Slanderous, the two of you, speaking ill of Josh like that. Here are your drinks, by the way.” She sets the cups on the counter.

Seungkwan looks for his name but both to-gos are blank. “Which one is mine?”

“Strangely enough, you guys ordered the exact same thing so take your pick.”

They both reach for the red cup at the same time and Wonwoo jerks his hand away when his fingers accidentally brush against Seungkwan’s. “Sorry,” he mumbles, quickly picking up the other drink and averting his gaze.

Wonwoo doesn't strike him as a White Teddy Bear Mocha Latte kind of guy but perhaps that is Wednesday’s distinguishing trait from the other days of the week: a sweet tooth and cordial disposition. 

_Wait. Wait! I think I got it. Everybody shush!_

“What Happened To Monday!” Seungkwan blurts, finally remembering the name of the movie. And thank goodness he did or else it would’ve bugged him all fucking day. 

“Yeah, I guess the week has flown by so far,” Wonwoo replies with polite confusion. He looks like he’s about to say something further when his mouth suddenly snaps closed and his jaw tightens. He’s staring past Seungkwan.

“You okay?” Seungkwan asks, glancing behind him. He doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just the usual line of students waiting to utilize the mailing center’s services.

“I have to go,” Wonwoo says curtly. “I’ll see you guys around.” He ducks out of the cafe area and stops behind a pillar to peer around it, White Teddy Bear Mocha Latte clutched to his chest with both hands, before power walking towards the revolving doors. 

“Is he always that weird?” Seungkwan asks as nicely as he can.

Joy shrugs. “I mean, are any of those boys normal?” she counters and for which he has no response.

****Thursday****

Seungkwan seriously considers not going to his 200 Revolutionary War class because there’s no way he’ll be able to sneak into the lecture hall unnoticed at this time. But if he does skip, Minghao will scold him for it later which is more trouble than a raised eyebrow from the TA so he forces himself to enter the Social Sciences building.

There’s a lone figure leaning against the wall opposite of the lecture hall entrance and as Seungkwan gets closer, he recognizes Minghao. “Hey,” he whispers. “Why are you out here?”

“Just in time,” Minghao says at a normal volume. “I was about to leave and get lunch without you.”

“Lunch?” Seungkwan glances at the door. “What about class?”

“I assume you haven’t seen the email yet,” says Minghao. “The TA has appendicitis and the prof couldn’t find his notes so class is cancelled.”

“What?!” Seungkwan fumbles his cell phone out of his pocket and opens his school account. Sure enough, at the top of his inbox is an email the professor sent three minutes before the start of class. He feels a little guilty about his excitement because the TA is actually a nice guy and appendicitis sounds painful. “So lunch?”

“Yeah, I figured we could head over to see Soonyoung since he’s working and will give us a discount.” Minghao tosses his car keys into the air and catches them without looking. “Unless you’re in the mood for something else.”

“Nah, that sounds good.” He’s never been to the brick and mortar establishment of Pill Dickles, only ever gratefully accepted the free food Soonyoung brings back to the House because he’s a college student. 

Minghao leads him to the Jeep parked across the building and drives toward the town center while Seungkwan regales him with the story of how he came back to his dorm room the previous evening to find his roommate’s friends lounging on _his_ bed while all the other seating options remained empty. 

“It’s not that I mind him bringing people to the room but I don’t even like my friends sitting on my bed, let alone complete strangers,” Seungkwan explains. “I’ve told him this before but he always acts like it’s news to him. Honestly, I don’t know why Ariel hasn’t dumped his ass. She’s so nice! And Eric sucks.”

“He sounds like a douche,” Minghao agrees. “You say your roommate’s name is Eric?”

“Yeah. Eric Von something or another.”

“Uh huh. And his girlfriend’s name is Ariel?”

Seungkwan nods.

“Are they...” Minghao pauses. “Have you ever seen The Little Mermaid?”

“Of course I ha - oh my god.” Seungkwan smacks a palm against his forehead. “Ariel! And Eric! How did I not realize this sooner?”

“Maybe that explains why they’re still together. Disney ordained destiny,” Minghao says with his signature high-pitched giggle. A ring laden hand effortlessly steers the car into a busy shopping center. “So does that make you Ursula the Sea Witch?” 

Seungkwan cracks up - or maybe just cracks. Not because it’s all that funny but because any other Thursday afternoon, he’d be taking notes and trying not to fall asleep while Minghao pokes him in the ribs so he’s in a spectacularly good mood. “Oh god, I just remembered they’re both on the swim team as well.”

They’re still laughing as Minghao parks right in front of Pill Dickles. The signage boasts a rather large cutout of the restaurant’s mascot and Seungkwan wonders if he’s the only pervert who sees a giant penis.

Minghao points out a black Toyota Camry with a decal of the University’s logo and says, “looks like we’re not the only ones trying to get a discount.”

“Who that?”

Seungkwan should have known. He’s not exactly surprised to see Wonwoo (looking a lot less stressed than he did while trying to sneak out of the student center) considering the last few days but the sudden gazillion percent increase in Wonwoo sightings is still somewhat bewildering. 

Is this a non-sexual variation of the Seungcheol Effect?

(“What the hell is that?” Chan asks morosely.

“It’s actually a fairly common phenomenon,” Jun replies. “You hook up with someone random, someone you’ve never seen before in your life, and then BAM. You suddenly run into her everywhere: at the student center, in the library, the main hall of the East Asian Studies building, the 7-11 on Duke Ave.”

“Isn’t that just being stalked?” Vernon asks. 

“Nah, it’s different,” says Jihoon which lends some credence to the theory. “It’s not intentional from either party. And it only happens after quickies in a closet, blow-job behind some shrub kind of hook-ups where you sort of remember their face and definitely don’t remember each other’s names.”

Jun nods in agreement. “And the more awkward the hook-up, the worse the effect. It happens to all of us but we named it after Seungcheol because one time he slept with a girl who peed his bed and a few months later, found out she was the daughter of his dad’s boss at a company BBQ.”)

“Wassup friends!” Soonyoung crows from behind the register. “Welcome to Pill Dickles, oldest independent restaurant in town!”

So Soonyoung claims but other than a 6 foot statue of the dick-shaped mascot in the corner, the decor screams Noodles & Co. ripoff rather than beloved long running, small town establishment. Not that Seungkwan has the mind to argue with him - he’s here for a cheap sandwich is all.

“Did you just get here?” Minghao asks Wonwoo who moves aside to let them step up to the counter. 

“No, I already ate and was just saying goodbye to Soonyoung before I left,” he replies. “What are you doing here? I thought you had class at this time.” He sounds slightly accusative and his eyes cut to Seungkwan for a fraction of a second. “Minghao, you’re setting a poor example.”

Seungkwan bristles. He doesn’t need Minghao to teach him how to skip class. He can do bad all by himself, thanks very much.

Minghao explains the situation with the TA and appendicitis and their hot mess of a professor. “You know I don’t skip class without a good reason. You’re paying to attend so not going is basically the same as - ”

“Setting money on fire,” Wonwoo, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung finish in unison.

Minghao wags an index finger at each of them. “It’s true!”

Soonyoung exhales noisily before slapping his hands on the counter and asking, “so, what do guys want to order?”

Until that moment, Seungkwan had taken for granted that he didn’t know the names of the sandwiches Soonyoung brought back from work, just that they were free and delicious. “I’ll have the, uh, the roast beef on rye bread,” Seungkwan describes because he’s not sure he can say the name with a straight face. 

“Save a Horseradish, Rye-em Cowboy?” Soonyoung verifies loudly. “It comes with a pickle - would you like it spicy?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, spicy pickle it is. Minghao, what about you?”

“I’ll have a Tossed Salad,” he replies, taking out his wallet and handing over a credit card. “You can put his and mine together.”

“Oh,” Seungkwan says, surprised. “Thanks Minghao.”

“Bah, he just wants the stamps for himself,” Wonwoo interjects, rolling his eyes.

Seungkwan decides to ignore the snide gleam in salty Thursday Wonwoo’s tone because it’s still nice of Minghao to pay for lunch even if he has ulterior motives in doing so. “What are the stamps for?” he asks as Soonyoung pounds two smiley faces onto a small rectangular card that says ‘Friends With Benefits’ in lurid red Comic Sans.

“It’s our frequency program,” Soonyoung explains. “Buy 10 sandwiches or salads, your next one is on us. Or if you can refrain from cashing them in right away and collect 69 stamps, your 70th meal is free plus you get a Pill Dickles fannypack and a pen shaped like Richard.”

“Who’s Richard?”

“That’s Richard.” Soonyoung points to the statue in the corner and hands Minghao his credit and new FWB card.

Seungkwan did not know the mascot had a name and sort of wishes he still didn’t. 

Wonwoo sighs. “I gotta get going. I have a meeting with my advisor.”

“Chin up, buddy,” says Soonyoung. “I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri with one of those teeny umbrellas you love so much waiting for you at home. I’ll even let you use my special curly straw. Don’t forget that I love you, man.” 

Seungkwan would assume that he’s simply being bombastic except Wonwoo looks grateful for the encouragement.

“I’m holding you to that curly straw,” he says, heading towards the door. “And the cocktail umbrella!” 

****Friday****

While working at the print/copy center in the library, Seungkwan catches a glimpse of Wonwoo and Vernon leaving the building together. They’re too far for him to call out to them without being obnoxious so he settles for sending a passive-aggressive text to Vernon instead. 

“Yo.” Seungcheol sidles up to the counter, munching on a Clif Bar. “What’s up?” 

Seungkwan sweeps away a few crumbs. “Can I help you with something?”

“Nah. I have to meet for a group project in a few minutes and noticed you were working.” Seungcheol shoves the last bit of the bar into his mouth. “You coming over for dinner tomorrow?” he asks around his chewing. "Mingyu is cooking." 

“Sure. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing special. Just thought it’d be cool to sit down and eat together.” Seungcheol shrugs like it’s no big deal.

And it’s not. A big deal. But Seungkwan warms at the idea of sitting around that nice wooden table - mostly used for beer pong and gathering empty pizza boxes - with a bunch of people for a home cooked meal.

Seungcheol checks his phone and then puts it back in his pocket. “You seen Vernon? He said he was in the lib.”

Seungkwan tries not to visibly wince at the abbreviation. “I saw him leave a few minutes ago with Wonwoo.”

“Wonwoo was here too? That little shit has been ignoring me all day.” Seungcheol pouts and a few weeks ago, Seungkwan would have cooed and swooned but now he just thinks he looks like a sad camel. “Send him a message. See if he replies to you.”

Seungkwan frowns. “I definitely don’t have Wonwoo’s number. We spoke to each other for the first time at the party on Saturday.”

“Really?” Seungcheol sounds genuinely surprised. “But you’re over at the house all the time.”

“That’s true…” Seungkwan shrugs. “You know, I used to wonder if he was actually a spirit or something trapped in the House because I never saw him anywhere else or heard him speak. But weirdly-” Seungkwan leans forward “-I’ve seen him every day this week all over campus and town.”

“That is weird,” Seungcheol agrees, “because Wonwoo is actually a ghost who has been dead for ten years. WoOoOoOo!” He flutters his hands in what is probably meant to be a spooky gesture. 

Seungkwan nods. “That would also explain the bloody footprints that sometimes randomly appear around the house.”

Seungcheol pales. “Wait, what?”

“Excuse me,” a soft, leathery voice interrupts. 

Seungcheol leaps about a foot into the air and smacks his elbow against the counter on his way down. “Ow, motherf-” He cuts himself off when he spots Doris, the University’s oldest enrolled undergrad at 86 years young and something of a campus celebrity.

She’s also a frequent patron of the print/copy center since she prefers hard copies of any online required readings. Her eyes aren’t what they used to be, she often claims while adjusting her glasses with impossibly thick lenses. 

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” Doris apologizes, hobbling up to the counter in lavender Crocs, “but I can’t quite seem to figure out how to print double-sided. The document is very long and I’d like to conserve paper.”

Seungcheol takes a step back. “I should get going. Group project meeting.” He flashes a smile at Doris and for a brief moment, Seungkwan remembers why he had been so smitten those first few weeks.

Doris makes a small noise of delight and looks over her shoulder to watch him walk aw- oh my god, she’s definitely checking out Seungcheol’s ass. She turns back to Seungkwan and laughs, putting a delicate hand over her mouth, when she notices she’s been caught. “How embarrassing. He’s young enough to be my grandson. Ah, well.” She sighs. “As my mother used to say, you can’t walk by the bakery without smelling the bread.”

He nods, screaming on the inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Saturday**
> 
> Seungkwan and Wonwoo sit on opposite sides of the enormous table during dinner. 
> 
> Afterwards, Wonwoo plays video games with Jihoon and Chan, never moving from his spot on the couch. Seungkwan begins his reign as the undefeated champion of frisbee-bowling in the front yard. 
> 
> They don't exchange a single word the entire evening. 
> 
> \--------------------------------------------
> 
> How has everyone been? Good, I hope.
> 
> Coming up:  
> -a final glimpse at the fun weekend of winter activities at the Yoon family cabin  
> -Seungkwan recruits help to deal with his infinitesimal, insignificant, widdle crush which he may decide is actually Soonyoung's fault, not Mingyu's.  
> -AnGsT probably
> 
> You have been warned.


End file.
